


Flowers and Candles

by Heathglen



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Not Romance, Not a Love Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heathglen/pseuds/Heathglen
Summary: Kyoya is the victim of an attempted kidnapping. Despite the failure of the kidnappers, Kyoya can't shake the constant feelings of nervousness and danger. Normally a master of his emotions, Kyoya fights to keep his feelings of dread in check, but cracks begin to appear. He's going crazy, but he doesn't dare tell his friends or family. Canon story based on the Manga
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Even through his sunglasses the man had to squint against the glare of the bright sun. He sat in the driver’s seat of a black sedan with his arm resting on the ledge of the open window, watching the traffic pass by on the street. Slow moving cars splashed through puddles pooling on the road from the melting snow. Spring was in the air and its freshness showed not only on the budding trees but also in the face of every person on the street. He took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out the window to have it whisked away by the crisp spring breeze.  
“I still don’t see him,” said the driver.  
Next to him, the man in the passenger seat lit a new cigarette from the butt of the last one, then stubbed out the roach in the overflowing ash tray. Even with the window open, the interior of the car was hazy with smoke. Across the street from their parking spot were the ornate iron gates of the prestigious Ouran Academy.   
“Be patient,” With the cigarette held in the corner of his lips, the chain-smoking passenger laced his fingers together and stretched his arms above his head as far the low roof would allow. “There are still lots of people leaving.”   
A third man in the backseat leaned forward between the front seats. “What if we missed him? Most of the kids left right after the final bell. Maybe he got past us in the crowd?” All three pairs of eyes scanned the sidewalk in front of the school. Luxury cars were parked in a neat line along the entire length of the street, each with a uniformed chauffeur standing at its fender. Groups of girls in yellow uniform dresses waved and called farewells to each other. Boys in blue blazers horsed around on the sidewalk while their patient chauffeurs chatted with each other across the lengths of their cars.   
“We didn’t miss him.” The man in the passenger seat blew out a long stream of smoke. The driver grunted and flicked ash from his cigarette out the window.  
“Let me see the kid’s picture again,” said the driver. The passenger rolled his eyes and dug through the glove box in front of him. He pulled out a blown-up photo of an Ouran Academy ID.   
“Rich and good looking. If there’s any justice in this world he’ll have the brains of cow,” said the passenger, glancing at photo before handing it over.   
The driver took it and studied it for the hundredth time. The boy staring out at him from the photo was thin, dark featured, with a fringe haircut. His thin framed glasses couldn’t hide his handsome brown eyes or razor-sharp cheek bones. This kid could make it as an actor or a J-pop idol, he thought.  
The man in the back leaned forward and plucked the photo from the driver’s hand. “I feel sort of bad doing this to a kid. I mean, geez, he’s only in second year.”  
“Then don’t.” The passenger turned in his seat to glare at the man in the back. “I’d be happy to split the pay off two ways instead of three if you’ve suddenly decided to grow a conscious.”  
“I didn’t say wouldn’t do it,” he said with a shrug. “I just don’t get what anyone would want with a kid. You don’t think the guy is a pervert or something?”  
“So what if he is? What difference does it make? We’re getting paid to do one job. What the client does with the kid afterwards isn’t our concern.”  
“Right,” said the driver. “Now how about you two just shut your traps and pay attention to the street. We don’t want to let him slip by.”  
Stony silence settled on the car as the men turned their focus back onto the street.

The sound of their footsteps echoed through the breezeway bordering the Ouran Academy courtyard. A gentle wind swirled around the trees’ early spring buds, weaved through the breezeway columns, and tripped along the still empty flower beds. Even after completing a gruelling Knights in Shining Armour host event, the Ouran Highschool Host Club couldn’t help but feel energized by the first fresh spring day of the season.  
“Quick, Haruhi! Grab Tono and hold him!” Hikaru rushed towards the blond boy, holding a slushy snowball gathered from the dirty piles of remaining snow.  
“I’m not helping you with this.” Haruhi ducked out of the way as Kaoru launched a sloppy snow projectile that just grazed Tamaki’s shoulder.  
“Oh, you two are going to regret that!” said Tamaki, stooping to make a slushball of his own. With dramatic flair he leapt up on to a stone bench and took aim at his pair of adversaries. “You start this battle at your own peril!” His throw sailed harmlessly in between the twins. They scampered ahead laughing as Tamaki chased after them.  
“Tama-chan isn’t going to catch them,” said Honey. He was trotting in between Haruhi and Kyoya with Mori following one step behind.  
“He never does,” said Haruhi.  
“He never learns,” added Kyoya. “What a moron.”  
The group wandered out of the school’s main gate onto the front street where their cars waited. There were still a few students exiting the campus as various after school sports teams and clubs finished, but most people were gone and only a few cars were still parked along the street awaiting their charges.   
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” said Haruhi as she turned to walk to the train station.  
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” asked Honey. “I can have my driver drop you off.”  
“No, thanks. My dad will be home, and he always makes a fuss when one of your fancy cars stops by. It’s exhausting to deal with. It’s easier if I take the train.” She gave a cursory farewell wave to the twins and Tamaki who were still chasing after each other and headed off down the street.  
Kyoya spotted his driver at the far end of the street. Mori and Honey’s drivers were waiting in the other direction. The twins had locked themselves in their car and were infuriating Tamaki by making rude faces at him through the window. Kyoya nodded farewell to Honey and Mori and made his way to down the street towards his car.  
Across the street, three men in a car suddenly sat up straight.  
“Is that him? I think that’s him. Let me see the picture.” The driver snatched the photo, looking at the boy on the street then down at the picture and back. “It’s him.”  
“He’s almost to his car,” said the chain smoker. “Hurry up! Go! Go!”  
Tossing his cigarette out the window, the driver threw the car into gear, cranked the wheel over hard, and stomped on the accelerator. Horns blared as the car rocketed down the street, swerving to miss oncoming traffic.  
“Kyoya! Wait!” Kyoya was halfway down the street when Tamaki came running up behind him and caught him by the shoulder. “Before you go, I wanted to ask you—”  
Tamaki’s question was cut off by the sound of squealing tires. The boys turned as a black car with tinted windows screeched to a stop next to them. Two large men exploded from the car and flanked the pair. Hands grabbed Kyoya by the arms and started pulling him towards the open door of the car.  
“What are you doing? Wait! Stop!” Tamaki lunged to grab hold of Kyoya’s jacket. “Kyoya!” He tried to pull his friend back but one of the men struck him across the face with the back of his hand.  
The sight of Tamaki falling to the ground jarred Kyoya out of his stunned inaction. “Tamaki!” He struggled to free himself from the men’s grip, but their hands were like vices on his arms. He thrashed and kicked out trying to connect with the shins of his assailants. “Tamaki!” He screamed as they tried to push him into the car. One of the men had his hand on the back of Kyoya’s neck and was trying to push his head down through the door. Fighting, Kyoya jerked his head up just as someone behind him gave a solid push causing his cheek to smash into the car’s doorframe. Kyoya tasted the sudden rush of blood in his mouth. Another shove on his back drove his face against the frame a second time before the men were able to force his head into the car.  
Dazed by the blow to his face, Kyoya pitched forward onto the dark back seat. Cigarette smoke enveloped him and he choked on the overwhelming stench. He scrambled back towards the door trying to bolt back out into the sunlight. In an instant, the men were piling in after him, knocking him back hard. The door swung closed and it seemed like slow motion. Terror and blackness swallowed him up as the sunlight from outside shrank away. Just as the light had dwindled to a tiny sliver around the door, it was wrenched open and everything began running at full speed again. A hand reach in and grabbed the collar of the closest man. Before Kyoya could blink, both men had disappeared out the door.  
Kyoya sat stunned on the seat, staring at the bright light streaming through the door. A shadow darkened the door and Kyoya shrank back.  
“Master Kyoya, are you alright?” It was Tachibana, his bodyguard. Calm and composed, he leaned through the doorway and held out his hand. Kyoya took the offered hand and climbed out of the car. Back in the bright sunlight of the street, the two attackers were lying face down on the ground with Aijima, his second bodyguard, standing over them while on his phone to the police. His third bodyguard, Hotta, was growling as he dragged the driver of the car around to join his accomplices in the dirt.  
Shaking from adrenaline, Kyoya stared down at the would-be kidnappers. Tachibana was talking to his other team members, but Kyoya was too unfocused to understand what he was saying. A thought snapped into his mind.  
“Tamaki!” Kyoya grabbed Tachibana’s arm. “Where’s Tamaki?” He suddenly felt frantic with panic. “Where is he?”  
“I’m here!” The voice came from behind him. Kyoya turned and almost fell over backwards as a tight hug enveloped him. A flood of emotions washed over him and he had to hold on to Tamaki’s jacket to stay standing. The threat of hot tears pricked at his eyes as he buried his head into his friend’s shoulder. He couldn’t stop himself from trembling. He pulled back from the embrace and tried to take deep breaths.  
Still hanging onto Kyoya’s arms, Tamaki watched his friend gulp down air. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” A bruise was already forming on his cheek where it had hit the door frame. A trickle of blood was leaking from his mouth. Tamaki reached up and brushed his thumb across Kyoya’s cheek.   
“I’m fine.” He brushed Tamaki’s hand away. “What about you?” Kyoya took a full look at Tamaki. Blood smeared the side of his face. It looked horrendous, but closer inspection showed that it was only from a small cut across his cheekbone where the man had hit him.  
Sirens and flashing lights rolled up on the street and half a dozen police officers poured out of their cars and swarmed over the kidnappers.  
“Master Kyoya,” Tachibana came up and touched his shoulder. “We need to get you home. The police will be coming to take your statement.”  
“Tachibana, what just happened? Who are these men?” said Kyoya.  
“Later, Master Kyoya. Right now, we need to go before the media shows up. The police will sort this out,” Tachibana gestured towards the end of the street where their car was still waiting.  
“But what about--”  
“Sir, please get in the car!”   
Kyoya snapped his mouth closed. He had only heard Tachibana speak to him in that hard tone a handful of times in his life. It was a tone that demanded obedience. Tachibana turned to Tamaki. “Do you have transportation home, Suoh-san?”  
“My driver is here.” Tamaki indicated the uniformed chauffeur standing a few steps behind them. Tachibana took a moment to speak to Tamaki’s driver then indicated that Kyoya should head to the car.  
Kyoya moved to head towards his waiting car but Tamaki’s hand on his wrist pulled him back. “Kyoya, are you sure you’re okay?” Tamaki’s striking blue eyes were full of concern. Kyoya gave him a nod and a faint half smile before Tachibana put a hand on his shoulder and steered him down the street. Tamaki stood, watching his friend leave until his car pulled away, then turned to climb into his own.

“And you’re sure they didn’t say anything? They didn’t address you by name?”  
“Like I said, they just jumped out and grabbed me, nothing else.”  
Two Metropolitan Police officers sat across the coffee table from Kyoya in the family study scribbling hasty notes in pocket-sized notebooks while he held an ice pack to his swollen face. His father was next to him on the settee. To the uninitiated, he looked calm, but Kyoya could feel the fury radiating off him. Ootori Yoshio was silent as the police questioned his son, but Kyoya saw him glance over several times and share a look with the chief of the Ootori family’s private police force, the Black Onion Squad, who was leaning against the sideboard near the door.   
“And as far as you know, you’ve never met any of these men before?”  
“No. I told you before, I don’t know them. I’ve never seen them before,” snapped Kyoya. It had been hours since the attack and people hadn’t stopped grilling him with questions. He was exhausted and irritated. His father put a hand on his shoulder that reminded him that he needed to be polite to the officers. Biting his tongue, Kyoya adjusted the ice pack against his face. His jaw ached.  
As soon as they had arrived home, Tachibana had propelled him into the study, sat him down on the couch, and told him not to move. Leaving Aijima to guard the doorway, Tachibana had disappeared to report to Yoshio, Kyoya’s father. Kyoya sat up straight with his hands neatly folded in his lap staring at a blank spot on the wall across from him. It didn’t occur to him to move or ask any questions. He didn’t think about sitting quietly, he just did it. It wasn’t until his parents rushed into the room an indeterminate amount of time later that thoughts started streaming through his mind again.  
His father perched on the couch next to him, and with the careful eye of a physician, began to examine his injured face. He asked Kyoya simple questions about what day it was and what he had had for breakfast that morning. He watched Kyoya’s pupils and checked his pulse at his wrist. All the while his mother paced around the room, leaving and then coming back in only to leave again. Finally, he was ordered to stand and strip to the waist. Unsure why, Kyoya did what he was told, shrugging out of his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, and tossing them over the arm of the couch.  
He was surprised to see angry black bruises on his upper arms where the men had grabbed and held him. Turning around at his father’s prompting, he heard him mutter about bruises on his back as he palpated along his spine. Satisfied that there were no other injuries beyond the visual bruises, Yoshio called for Tachibana who came in and started taking pictures of the marks on Kyoya’s face and body. When he was finished, Kyoya was instructed to get dressed and wait while everyone else left the room.  
Kyoya could hear people speaking in the hallway. Footsteps rushed back and forth outside the room. Just on the other side of the door Kyoya could sense the buzz of activity and haste, but inside the room no one was talking to him. Wasn’t anyone going to tell him what was going on? Had they somehow forgotten him? He shook his head and reminded himself to be patient.   
He had just finished buttoning his shirt when his father came back into the room along with the two police officers, the Black Onion chief, and an ice pack for his face. Sitting back down, the officers asked him to recount what had happened that afternoon. Pressing the ice to his cheek, he eyed the officers across from him. They were detectives dressed in poorly fitting off-the-rack suits. The older one was tall, with thinning hair, and bored eyes. The younger one was rounder with an easy, relaxed manner. Kyoya thought he had never seen two more average looking people in his life. They did not inspire him with confidence.   
He did his best to describe the chaotic scene from that afternoon, but everything in his mind was such a jumble that it was difficult to put details into the proper order. Had he screamed for help before or after Tamaki got hit? What direction had the car come from? What were the men wearing? It was difficult to remember. He struggled to put the experience into something linear and comprehensible.  
As soon as he finished, the detectives began bombarding him with questions. Often, they would ask the same question multiple times using different words. Kyoya had questions of his own, but every time he tried to ask one the officers turned it aside and asked something else. It was frustrating and Kyoya’s answers became more and more clipped as his irritation grew. The interview dragged on and Kyoya couldn’t understand what these officers wanted from him.  
“I’ve told you everything I know. I don’t remember anything else.” Kyoya shoulders sagged from exhaustion. “I don’t know how many times I can keep telling you the same story over and over.” The adrenaline from earlier had faded and left him feeling drained. He was starting to feel the pain from the bruises on his back and arms.  
“Gentlemen, I think that’s enough for now,” said Yoshio. “If my son thinks of anything else, we’ll be sure to call you.”  
The officers glanced at each other and reluctantly stood. “Our apologies. It’s getting late. We should let you get some rest. Thank you for your time, Ootori-san.” With a bow they moved towards the door.  
“Wait,” Kyoya stood and took a step to follow. “Aren’t you going to tell me what’s going on? Who were those men?”  
“Kyoya, sit down,” said his father.  
“Now wait a minute. I want to know—”  
“Kyoya! Sit down!”  
His father’s voice hit him like a fist and Kyoya sat down hard. Yoshio escorted the officers to the front door, leaving Kyoya in the study with the Black Onion chief who regarded the boy with silent sympathy.  
Yoshio stepped back into the room. His poise and graciousness in front of the police disappeared, replaced with cold rage. “Chief, I want our own people on this and I want it dealt with quickly.”  
“Yes, sir. I already have my best men on it. We know where he is. He’ll be picked up within the hour.”  
“What do you think his intention was with Kyoya?” Yoshio paced the length of the room tapping his fists together. “Was this a murder attempt?”  
“Murder?” Kyoya couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Who are you talking about? Why would someone want to kill me?”  
“Don’t interrupt, Kyoya.”  
Kyoya stood up in a fury. “If someone is trying to murder me, I think I have a right to know! Why won’t anyone tell me what’s going on?”  
His father turned gave him a fierce glare but Kyoya held his gaze. After a tense moment, Yoshio broke eye contact and looked at the chief. “Tell him.”  
“Well, ah,” Glancing between father and son, the chief cleared his throat. “Some months ago, there was an employee, an assistant vice president of one of the Ootori Group’s subsidiaries. He was caught defrauding the company and terminated. Since then we have received some anonymous threats against the family. We figured they were coming from him, but we had no proof. Now we do since those men who tried to kidnap you confessed to being hired by him. They were not, however, able to tell us what he was planning to do with you.”  
Kyoya shook his head. This didn’t make any sense. “But why would he want to kill me? I didn’t have anything to do with him getting fired.”  
The chief crossed his arms and gave a half shrug. “I don’t think he was actually intending to kill you, Ootori-san. Those thugs sitting in lockup have known ties to the Yakuza. You could say that they are professionals. If they had wanted you dead, they wouldn’t have taken the risk of trying to kidnap you first.”  
Kyoya felt lightheaded and had to sit down again. Visions of being shot or stabbed on the street swam before his eyes. “Then, why did they want me?”  
Seeming not to notice Kyoya’s sudden paleness, the chief continued. “Most often in cases involving members of wealthy families, the goal of the perpetrator is to hold the kidnapped victim for ransom. We think that was the intent here.”  
Kyoya nodded. He had heard of such things. It made sense. He stared at floor. He wanted to vomit. There were too many things to think about and he couldn’t keep them straight in his mind. His father’s hand on his shoulder focused his attention again.  
“It’s late, Kyoya. You should go to bed.”  
With an absent nod, Kyoya left the study and climbed the stairs towards his bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, he paused to look around his room. After all the chaos it seems strange to find everything in its normal orderly state: the spotless white sofa, the organized bookshelf, the kidney shaped coffee table polished until it shone. Everything was just as he had left it that morning which now seemed so long ago. Passing by his bubbling fish tank, he dumped his jacket on his desk and climbed the stairs to his bed in the loft. Not bothering to brush his teeth, wash his face, or even undress, he curled up on his bed and turned off the light.  
He lay in the dark listening to his breath and heartbeat. The room around him was still with moonlight from the window casting a soft glow on the wall at the foot of his bed. Everything was silent except for the growing pounding in his chest. His breathing became faster.  
He reached up and slapped on the light. Taking deep breaths, he clutched his pillow and shuddered. The light stayed on for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kyoya ducked through the crowded school corridor towards his classroom. Overnight the bruise on his cheek had bloomed into a deep purple, spanning from his jawline up to his eyebrow. He could hear people's comments as he passed.  
"Fighting like a common thug. How vulgar."  
"Oh, his poor handsome face! What a shame."  
"Ha! Pretty boy isn't looking so hot anymore."  
"Do you think his father did that to him?"  
The swirling remarks made him burn with shame. He picked up his pace to the door of his classroom and slid into his desk. The idle chatter of his classmates evaporated as he unpacked his books. He knew they were all looking at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the top of his desk.  
"Kyoya!" A body flopped into the chair in front of him. Tamaki leaned onto the desktop and pushed his smiling face into Kyoya's line of sight. Kyoya had no choice but to make eye contact. The moment he did Tamaki laughed in delight. "Look! We match!" Tamaki pointed to his cheek that had also swelled overnight. A thin red slash on his cheekbone was encircled by a green and yellow bruise that turned purple under his eye.  
Despite himself, Kyoya could not withstand Tamaki's ridiculous lopsided grin. Letting out a snort of amusement, Kyoya lifted his head with an air of dignity and brushed his hair aside so that Tamaki could get a good look at his face. "Mine is bigger."  
"Yeah, but mine is more colourful," said Tamaki. "I think it adds character. Girls like character." He turned to wink at a trio of girls loitering near the desk. Emboldened by the attention, they came up begging to know what happened. Kyoya opened his mouth to give a dismissive answer, but Tamaki answered first. The rest of their classmates gathered around to listen to Tamaki as he gave an exaggerated account of the assault.  
Kyoya could feel himself starting to sweat as he watched the students around them become absorbed in the dramatic retelling. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to think about it. He gripped the edge of the desk with white knuckles and stared down at the floor, trying to block out his friend’s words. He wished he would stop, but Tamaki could spin a good tale and people were leaning forward, hooked on every word. As Tamaki built up to a grand climax, Kyoya’s sudden need to get away overpowered his self-discipline and he bolted to his feet. Tamaki stopped and looked at him in surprise but couldn’t say anything due to the teacher walking in at that moment to start class. The students' disappointment at having the story interrupted was palpable as everyone shuffled to their desks. Kyoya blew out a breath and sunk into his desk, relieved. 

Kyoya followed Tamaki into the dining hall for lunch. In the hallway he heard many of the same comments he had that morning. He was sure that Tamaki heard them too, but seemed unbothered. No surprise there, thought Kyoya. Tamaki had the marvellous gift of being impervious to criticism. Unkindness just rolled off him like water off the feathers of a duck.  
As they entered the dining hall, Tamaki was swarmed by girls asking about his face. Pleased with the attention, Tamaki launched into another theatrical retelling of the kidnapping. Somehow the story had grown into an unrecognizable tale about Tamaki singlehandedly saving Kyoya from a band of ninja. Still, the absurd story make Kyoya’s skin crawl and he especially disliked how at the end, many of the girls rushed over to him and began smothering him with sympathy. Some were even bold enough rub Kyoya’s back or brush his hair with their fingers so they could get a better look at his injured face. Their crowding made him feel claustrophobic. He would have like nothing better than to slap their hands away and snap at them about respecting personal boundaries. But etiquette demanded that he smile, thank them for their kindness, then move away from their pawing hands.  
Using his most charming smile, he managed to re-direct the girls towards Tamaki and slip away. He headed to the far corner of the dining hall where he spotted Honey and Mori.  
"Kyo-chan! Come sit with us." Honey indicated the empty seat across from him.  
With a nod of gratitude Kyoya sunk into the offered chair.  
"Are you okay?" asked Honey. "There're all kinds of rumors going around about what happened."  
"No doubt. Most of them probably started with that idiot." Kyoya gestured towards Tamaki holding court across the room. He yawned and rubbed his sore jaw. "Sorry, I'm just feeling tired. I didn't get much sleep last night."  
"What happened?" asked Mori.  
Kyoya hesitated. He didn’t want to talk about it, but they were going to find out one way or another and he’d rather they know the truth than whatever nonsense Tamaki would feed to them. He was about to give a brief account when the Hikaru and Kaoru appeared from behind him.  
"Geez, that's worse than Tono's" said Hikaru, leaning over Kyoya's shoulder and running his finger along the injured jaw line. Kyoya winced away from the touch only to have his face forcibly turned towards Kaoru.  
"Just look at how deep that purple is. Almost black."  
"More blueish, I think."  
Kyoya batted their hands away and gave the twins a glare that made them back off a step. They settled down into chairs on either side of him.  
"Well?" said Hikaru. "Come on, let’s have it."  
"Yeah," added Kaoru. "Let's hear the real story."  
Kyoya took a bracing breath and again started to describe yesterday's incident but was cut off by Honey's exclamation.  
"Haru-chan! We don't usually see you in the dining hall."  
"I heard some crazy stories about Tamaki-Senpai and Kyoya-Senpai. I wanted to come and make sure everything was okay." Haruhi took a seat next to Honey and leaned forward, taking a good look at Kyoya's face. "By the looks of it, at least some of the stories are true."  
"Maybe in part," replied Kyoya, trying not to clench his teeth. "I doubt anyone has heard the true version of events."  
"Then hurry up and tell it," said Hikaru.  
"Yeah. We want to be the first," added Kaoru.  
For the third time Kyoya began describing the incident. With minimal details, and a flat voice that sounded far steadier than he felt, he recounted as best he could the men grabbing him, Tamaki getting hit, and his bodyguards coming to the rescue. He told them about the police coming to the house and interviewing him. Finally, he explained about the ex-employee and his plan to ransom him back to his family.  
"My father told me this morning that the Black Onion Squad picked up him late last night,” he said. "He’s in jail with the other kidnappers, awaiting their hearing.” After he finished speaking the was a pause. The Host Club members sat staring at Kyoya, digesting what he had told them. Haruhi spoke first.  
"That sounds like it was terrifying. Hard to image someone wanting to harm you because of what your name is."  
Kyoya made a dismissive gesture. "Obviously, I don't take it personally. It's simply a reality of being part of a family of consequence. It's why I have bodyguards."  
"If that's true, why don't all of you have teams of bodyguards?" Haruhi looked around the table at the other boys.  
"Honey and Mori don't really need bodyguards," said Hikaru.  
"Yeah, they're already better trained then almost anybody they could hire," added Kaoru.  
"As for us," they said in unison. "Being part of a family of flower arrangers and fashion designers is pretty low risk compared to a family running an entire zaibatsu."  
Kyoya yawned again. It was a strange feeling, being worked up and dead tired at the same time. "Listen, now that you’ve heard the story, I don’t want to talk about it ever again. Okay? Let’s just forget that it happened. Also, I'd like to cancel today’s club meeting. I was up late last night and I would rather meet another day."  
“Can you do that?” asked Kaoru. “Just announce that a meeting is cancelled?”  
The Shadow King stood up from the table and adjusted his glasses, causing the light to flash off the lenses. “I’m the club vice-president. I can do whatever I want.”

“Hello, darling. How was your day?” Yoshio leaned down to kiss his wife's cheek before sitting down at the dining room table. “Is Kyoya not down for dinner yet?”  
“I just checked on him,” said Akito, Yoshio's second son, as he pulled out a chair to sit down. “He says he's not hungry.”  
Yoshio raised his eyebrows. “Is he ill?”  
Akito shook his head while dishing rice into his bowl. “I think he's only tired. He did, after all, have a late night.”  
“Yet he was up early this morning. He left for school before I even came down for breakfast,” said Yoshio.  
Kyoya’s mother looked up at her husband in surprise. “Left early? Kyoya never gets up early. Are you sure he’s all right? Yoshio, you should have told him to stay home today if he wasn’t feeling well.”  
Yoshio dismissively waved a hand at his wife’s comment. “I’m sure if he was unwell, he would have stayed home of his own accord. If he went, he must be okay.”  
“He loves school,” said Akito. “If you had told him he could stay home, he would have gone anyway.”  
Unconvinced, the Ootori matriarch crossed her arms and fixed her gazed on her husband. “Yoshio, our son was nearly kidnapped and the very next morning he does something that is completely out of character. I’m worried about him.”  
Yoshio sighed. “Yes, darling, I know. But considering what happened, it would be strange if Kyoya didn’t have a bit of an off day today. Just give him some space. You know how much he values his privacy. He’ll get annoyed if we start meddling.”  
“Yoshio, I want you to speak to him and make sure that he’s all right.”  
“I’ll have to see what my schedule looks like. I have to meet with the lawyers tomorrow and then there’s the meeting with administration heads of the Tokyo area hospitals, and-”  
“Yoshio.” His wife’s tone brooked no argument.  
“All right, all right.” Yoshio put up a hand in surrender. “I will try to find some time to speak with him, but I really think you’re are overreacting. Kyoya is fine.”  


Kyoya gasped and bolted up in bed, panting like he had just been running a race. Bewildered, he glanced around his dark bedroom, looking for danger. The room was still and quiet. He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. Holding his head in his hands he tried to remember the nightmare that woke him. He couldn't recall any images, just the feeling of pure terror.  
He tried to lay back down, but found his pillow and sheets soaked with sweat. He pulled himself out of the tangled sheets and swung his feet to the floor. He squinted at the glowing numbers on his alarm clock, trying to read them without his glasses. 2:23 AM. He had only been asleep for about three hours. He knew he wouldn't be sleeping again tonight. At least now it was Saturday and he didn't have to go to school in the morning.  
He got up and stumbled into his bathroom. He winced as he turned on the light. Running the faucet, he splashed cool water on his face. Letting the water run down his skin, Kyoya regarded his face in the mirror. Half of his face looked perfectly normal. He turned his head so only that side was reflected in the mirror. That was the Kyoya he knew. Calm, cool, and cunning.  
He turned his head. The other side of his face was altogether different. Chaotic, injured, and ugly. The swelling had gone down, but the bruise was still vibrant. Although he had never seen it before, Kyoya felt like he knew this face too. This face looked like how he felt.  
He had told his friends that he hadn't slept much the night before, which was true, but he had let them assume that it was because the police interviews had carried on late. The truth was that he every time he had closed his eyes, he felt the kidnappers dragging him into the car, smelled the stench of cigarettes, and saw light disappearing behind a closing door. He had ended up spending the night watching old game shows on TV and jumping at every sound the house made.  
Leaving the bathroom, he grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and pulled the duvet off the bed. Wrapping it around his shoulders, he dragged it down the stairs to the couch in the lower part of his room. Curling up in the blanket, he flicked on the TV. The dark room filled with a comforting glow.  
He wished he had some company. Somebody to sit with him. It was an odd feeling. He had always been comfortable on his own. Loneliness was a new sensation. He toyed with the idea of calling Tamaki, but dismissed it. It would be nice if there was someone in the house he could go to. He thought of his sister, Fuyumi. She wouldn't have minded if he came into her bedroom and woke her up. In fact, she would have been thrilled to have an excuse to snuggle up with her little brother. But she lived with her new husband now, and he knew that his brother would not be as keen to give him familial affection in the middle of the night.  
He shivered and pulled the blanket tighter. He pushed the loneliness down and resigned himself to wait out the night. Alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows. Outside was a radiant spring day. Buds were opening on the trees. Pale shoots were pushing up through the soil of the flower beds. Excited birds sang and fluttered through the breeze. All of this was lost on Kyoya. He sat like a zombie watching morning television. His eyes were open but glazed. He was awake but unthinking. Dawn had broken, morning had come, and Kyoya hadn’t noticed.  
A harsh ringing caused him to jump and gasp. It was his phone. Fumbling through the tangled blanket, he managed to find it in the ocean of soft folds.  
“Hello?” His voice came out little better than a croak.  
“Kyoya! You’re awake! Good! I wasn’t sure you would be.” It was Tamaki. Kyoya glance at the clock on the wall. It was 9:12 AM, which he supposed was early by his normal standards. “You have to come to Hikaru and Kaoru’s house tonight. We’re going to have a ‘Sleepover Party.’”  
It took a moment for the fog in Kyoya’s mind to clear enough for him to follow what Tamaki was saying. “We’re going to have a what?”  
“A Sleepover Party! I learned about it from television. I called Haruhi and had her explain the details to me this morning.”  
“You mean those overnight things for little girls where they have pillow fights and such?”  
“Haruhi says they’re not just for girls. Boys can have sleepover parties too. Commoner children often do this to celebrate their birthdays, but it doesn’t have to be for a birthday. They can happen any time. And even though it’s called a ‘Sleepover,’ Haruhi says that there isn’t much actual sleeping. Everyone dresses in their pajamas and brings over pillows and blankets as if they are going to sleep, but actually everyone stays up all night playing games, watching movies, eating snacks, and talking.”  
Tamaki was rambling on and it was clear to Kyoya that he was excited about this new novel activity. “So, we’re all going to get together to pretend like we’ll be sleeping, but really we’re just going to hang out like we do in the daytime.”  
“Yes! Exactly!”  
“Why don’t we just skip the pretense of sleep and wear normal clothes?”  
“No! We must put on pajamas and brush our teeth and such. It’s part of the ritual. It’s important to respect the ceremonies of commoner culture, Kyoya.”  
Kyoya considered the proposal. On one hand, he was feeling exhausted and wasn’t eager to deal with his friends’ exuberant behaviour. On the other, he was being offered the exact thing he had wished for: company during a sleepless night. He had to take advantage of opportunities when they presented themselves.  
“Alright. I’ll come to this ‘Sleepover.’”  
“Great! The twins and I already decided we’re going to watch American action movies. Don’t worry, we’ll have the subtitles on.”  
Kyoya rolled his eyes. “Whether or not the movies are subtitled is really not one of my concerns.”  
Tamaki laughed. “I’ll swing by your house this evening to pick you up. See you soon! Bye!”  
“What? Wait! Tamaki!”  
Tamaki had hung up. Kyoya tossed his phone down on the couch. He hadn’t had the chance to find out what the point of Tamaki picking him up was. He had his own car and driver after all. But like a good soldier, he picked himself up off the couch and began to prepare himself for the day’s battle.  
Washed and dressed, he gathered things together for his overnight stay at the Hitachiin mansion. He was unsure just what he was expected to bring to this activity. Did he need to bring his own pillow? A blanket? Did he need to wear actual pajamas? Or would boxers and a T-shirt be fine? He needed to ask someone with sleepover experience. He picked up his phone.  
“Hello?”  
“Haruhi. I need to ask you about this ‘sleepover’ tonight.”  
There as a long silence before she answered. “This isn’t seriously happening, is it?”  
“Tamaki assured me that it is,” replied Kyoya.  
There was another long pause, then a sigh. “What can I help you with, Senpai?”  
“What am I supposed to bring to this event? Do I need to bring my own bedding? What is the dress code?”  
“Dress code? Ummm… I guess I’d call it Extreme Casual. I’m sure whatever you sleep in will be fine.”  
“And that’s all I need to bring?”  
“Yeah, that and your toothbrush and maybe some snacks to share.”  
“What kind of snacks? Like a charcuterie board? A fruit platter?”  
Again, there was a pause before she answered. “No. Not that. Like candy or junk food.”  
“Eclairs?”  
“Sure. Eclairs. Whatever.”  
Kyoya could tell that he still hadn’t hit on the correct answer, but that Haruhi was too apathetic to explain. Pushing further would only annoy her. If she didn’t care what snacks were brought to the party, then he certainly didn’t either. He thanked Haruhi for her help and went to the kitchen to ask the pastry chef to make up a plate of desserts.

The car pulled up to the supermarket. Kyoya gave Tamaki a look that left no doubt about how unnecessary he thought this stop was.  
“I told Tachibana that we were going straight to the twins' house. Otherwise he would have come with us.”  
Tamaki smiled and patted Kyoya’s knee. “We’ll only be here for a few minutes. It’ll be fine.”  
“My father would not approve of me being out in public without my bodyguards.”  
Tamaki was already climbing out of the car. “Two minutes. Just two minutes and then we’ll be gone. I promise.”  
Kyoya sighed and followed Tamaki out of the car. He scanned the small parking lot as he walked to the market doors. People were scurrying among the cars, trying to load up groceries and get their children buckled into car seats. He jumped as a car honked at a pedestrian.  
Inside, the market was full of people doing their weekly shopping. Kyoya flinched as a woman brushed past him with her shopping bag. Ahead of him Tamaki strode with purpose towards one the aisles. Kyoya trotted to catch up.  
“What are we doing here?” he asked.  
“We need snacks for the sleepover of course.” Tamaki pulled up short in front of a row of chips causing Kyoya to bump into him.  
“We already have snacks.”  
Tamaki gave his friend an exasperated sigh as if he were having to explain something painfully obvious. “This is a commoner activity. We need commoner snacks.” He set about choosing flavours, trying to pick the ones that were the most popular with commoners.  
Kyoya flinched again when a man bumped his elbow. Around him people were moving about doing their shopping. No one was looking at him or Tamaki, yet Kyoya felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. It was strange being out without Tachibana and his team hanging back just behind the corner.  
“What do you think, Kyoya? Should we get cucumber flavour? Or crispy salmon? Kyoya?” Tamaki looked up to see Kyoya standing tense against the shelves, watching the people around him. “Kyoya? Are you alright?”  
Kyoya’s wrapped his arms around his torso in a self-hug. “I’m going to go wait in the car.”  
Tamaki grabbed two bags of chips and headed to the end of the aisle. “Relax, I’m done. I’ll just go pay for these and then we’ll go together.”  
Arms still crossed in front of him and slouching, Kyoya glanced towards the door for a moment but followed his friend to checkout.  
There were few people at the checkout, but to someone unused to standing in lines, the wait was excruciating. Around him, people moved in polite chaos. There was a small crash when a man dropped a soup can. A toddler cried as he was scolded. A couple bickered about how much paper towel they should buy. It was all very normal, yet Kyoya found the noise and movement irritating. He clenched and unclenched his hands while trying to calm the pounding in his head.  
Tamaki got to the checkout counter, and Kyoya slipped past him towards the door. “I’ll meet you in the car.” If Tamaki replied Kyoya didn’t hear him.  
He stepped out the door of the market and spotted the car parked down the lane. He turned to head towards it when he heard the sound of squealing tires. Without thinking Kyoya bolted. They were coming at him. He could feel them grabbing at him. He could smell the cigarettes. It was happening again.  
He sprinted to the car, wrenched open the door, and dived into the backseat. The driver waiting in the front seat, confused by the dramatic entrance, stared at him in the rear-view mirror.  
Panting, Kyoya knelt on the backseat and looked out the back window towards the entrance to the market where he had just been. There was no black car with tinted windows. No thugs coming to grab him. Just a hatchback that stopped short to avoid hitting a small child that had carelessly run out into the parking lot. His heart still racing, Kyoya turned around and slid down into the seat and took a deep breath. It had felt so real.  
The car door open and Tamaki slid inside. He regarded Kyoya’s heavy breathing for a moment and then pulled out a magazine from his shopping bag.  
“Look Kyoya, they had this by the counter,” Tamaki slid over on the seat with the magazine and put an arm around Kyoya’s shoulders. “It has a quiz that tells you what sort of person you’re most compatible with based on your favourite foods. And look, there’s an article listing 25 fashion accessories that will ‘up your style game.’”  
Kyoya wasn’t sure if Tamaki had seen his sudden dash to the car and was being nonchalant, or if he was being sincerely affectionate. It was impossible to tell with this boy. Regardless, Kyoya was comforted by the physical contact. “I think this magazine is marketed mainly to women.”  
“Do you think so?” Tamaki flipped a few pages, delighted with the bright photos. “Do you want to know your horoscope?”  
“No.”  
“How about the 10 best mats for doing yoga at home?”  
"You're an idiot."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“We can’t watch that one. It’s Christmas movie.”  
“Yeah, let’s watch this one instead.”  
“That movie is super old. I say we watch the one with the kung fu guy.”  
“That one is older than the one I suggested!”  
Kyoya lounged on the couch in the Hitachiin home theatre watching Tamaki and the twins bicker over their movie choices. They were sitting in a circle with dozens of DVD’s scattered around them. Tamaki jumped up and strode over to Kyoya with a stack of DVD’s. “What do you think, Kyoya? What do you want to watch? Do you think this one is a Christmas movie?”  
Kyoya stretched out, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles in a pose of causal indifference. “Tamaki, words cannot express how much I don’t care about what movie we watch.”  
Tamaki was about to get indignant when Honey came bouncing into the room. “We’re here! We brought Haru-chan! And cake!” The short boy spotted the piles of movies on the floor and wedged himself between the twins to look at them. “I want to watch the one with the animals that do karate.”  
“Cake?” Turning his attention to the new arrivals, Tamaki dumped his pile of forgotten DVDs into Kyoya’s lap, earning him a look of annoyance from the dark-haired boy. “We’re supposed to have commoner snacks. Commoners don’t eat cake.”  
“Actually, we do,” said Haruhi, coming through the door, followed by Mori.  
Tamaki ignored her statement and turned to Mori. “What did you bring?”  
“A charcuterie board and a fruit platter.”  
Kyoya smirked.  
Tamaki whirled around to face the twins who were still sitting on the floor surrounded by DVDs. “What snacks do you have?”  
“Our chef is making up hors d'oeuvres,” replied Hikaru.  
“They’re going to be brought in later,” added Kaoru.  
Tamaki threw up his hands and hunkered down on the floor to pout. “And you?” He turned on Kyoya. “I suppose I don’t even have to ask if you brought a commoner snack.”  
“I brought eclairs, macarons, and crème brulee,” answered Kyoya, ignoring his friend’s exaggerated behaviour.  
Tamaki’s head snapped up. “You…you brought French desserts?”  
“Is that all right with you?” Kyoya’s questions wasn’t sincere, but Tamaki was too distracted to notice.  
“Yes! Of course! I love…” Tamaki cut himself off as Haruhi moved into his line of sight. “Haruhi! Did you bring anything?” Tamaki rushed over and clasped both her hands in his. “Tell me you brought commoner snacks.”  
“Uh, yeah,” With difficulty, Haruhi pulled her hands back and dug into her bag. “I brought Pocky.” She brought out two boxes of the chocolate coated biscuit sticks.  
“Pocky,” breathed Tamaki, taking one of the boxes in both his hands and holding it up like a sacred icon. “The ultimate commoners' snack. Haruhi, you are amazing.”  
“It’s just Pocky,” said Haruhi, rolling her eyes.  
“Hey, are we going to watch movies or what?” said the twins.  
Tamaki shoved the box back into Haruhi’s hands. “We have to put on our pajamas first.”  
“Already?” asked Honey. “It’s only seven o’clock.”  
“Yeah,” said the twins. “Let’s watch a movie first and then we can –”  
“No!” said Tamaki. “We must be wearing our pajamas. It’s how the commoners do it.”  
“Actually—” Haruhi’s protest was overwhelmed by Tamaki herding everyone out of the room with the enthusiasm of a sheep dog.  
“Everyone, go get changed and—” Tamaki stopped and gasped at Haruhi. “You’re a girl.” Not knowing how to address the obviousness of Tamaki’s statement, Haruhi just stared at him.  
Tamaki pointed at her. “You’re a girl.” He made a sweeping gesture towards everyone else. “We’re all boys.”  
“And?”  
“You can’t sleep in a room with a group of boys.”  
“I thought we weren’t going to be doing any sleeping,” said Kyoya.  
Tamaki thought about this for a moment. They could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Still. It would be inappropriate.”  
“Why?” asked Haruhi. “Are you going to do something inappropriate?”  
Tamaki was shocked by the question. “No! Of course not!”  
Haruhi turned to the rest of the group. “And are any of you going to do anything inappropriate?” Abashed, they all shook their heads. “Then I don’t see the problem.” She shouldered her bag and turned down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Deep into their second movie, the Host Club were sprawled around the darkened theatre room. Haruhi, wearing an old shirt of her fathers and pair of gym short (much to the boys’ disappointment), was sitting cross-legged on the floor munching on hors d’oeuvres. The twins in matching flannel pajama pants, were lying stretched out on their stomachs on either side of her. In an armchair behind them was Mori in a t-shirt and boxers. Honey, in bunny pajamas, was squeezed in beside him. Tamaki and Kyoya were on the couch clad in silk pajamas; Kyoya in black, Tamaki in red.  
On the screen a soldier was holding his best friend trying to stop the bleeding from a bullet wound. Honey had his face buried in Mori’s shoulder, unable to watch. Tamaki sniffed trying to blink back tears. Haruhi brushed crumbs from her shirt.  
Kyoya was too tired to follow the movie’s plot, even with the subtitles. Normally he had no trouble staying up late into the night, but two consecutive nights with little sleep were catching up to him. Drowsiness overwhelmed him and he struggled to keep his eyes open. His head bobbed. He would just close his eyes for a minute.  
He woke up screaming. He tried to run but he was trapped, unable to move. Something was holding him and he struggled to free himself. Light blinded his eyes. Yelling and explosions overwhelmed his ears. He choked with terror. His heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest. Suddenly Tamaki’s face filled his vision.  
“Kyoya, it’s okay. You’re okay.” His voice was low and steady. “You have to be calm, Kyoya. If you’re calm, Mori will let you go. Do you understand?”  
The lights were on, but the movie continued to play. The sounds of the military battle on the screen filled the room. Bewildered and panting, Kyoya looked around the room. He was sitting splayed on the floor with Mori behind him holding him in a bear hug. Kyoya tried to squirm but he was pinned to Mori’s chest.  
Off to one side, Honey was sitting in Haruhi’s lap clutching his stuffed rabbit, Usa-chan. The twins were across the room, one hunched over the other, but without his glasses Kyoya couldn’t tell what they were doing.  
“Kyoya?” His eyes snapped back to Tamaki hovering next to him. “Are you calm?”  
His thoughts were scattered in every direction and he couldn’t bring words to his mind. He gave a slow nod. Mori released him from the hug, but kept a light grip on his shoulders as if to keep him from falling over. Kyoya felt around his pajamas for his glasses but couldn’t find them.  
“What…” His mouth was dry and his voice raspy. He was still having trouble collecting his thoughts. “What happened?” He ran his hand over the cushions of the couch beside him searching for his glasses.  
“You had a nightmare,” said Haruhi. Kyoya stopped and stared at her. He was trying to focus her blurry face, but to her it looked like the Shadow King was trying to stare straight into her heart. Flustered, she looked down at the floor. “I mean… you were yelling.”  
“Screaming,” corrected Honey.  
Kyoya turned back to trying to find his glasses. He needed his glasses. He patted around on the floor, moving pillows.  
“And you were thrashing around,” continued Honey.  
He shook out a blanket and tossed it aside. He couldn’t see. He needed to see.  
“Kaoru tried to wake you, but…”  
His glasses suddenly appeared in front of him. Tamaki had them. Kyoya grabbed them from his friend’s hand and slipped them on his face. He saw blood. It was running down Kaoru’s face. Hikaru was wiping it off his brother’s face with tissue. Kyoya froze and his breath hitched. It took him two tries to get the words out. “Did I…Did I hit you?”  
Hikaru turned and shot daggers at him. “You damn near broke his nose!” Clenching his fists, he started to get up. Kyoya shrank back against Mori.   
“Hikaru!” Holding tissues to his bloody nose with one hand, Kaoru reached out and grabbed Hikaru’s arm with the other. Hikaru sat back, putting a protective arm around his brother’s shoulders, but continued to glare at Kyoya.  
Kyoya sat dumbfounded staring at Kaoru’s bloody face. His stomach twisted. He looked to Haruhi and Honey. He wanted to explain that he hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, that it was an accident, but the words wouldn’t come. With his glasses on, he could see that their eyes were big as saucers. They were scared. He turned to Tamaki. There was fear in his eyes too. Kyoya felt sick. Shaking off Mori’s grasp, Kyoya staggered to his feet.  
Tamaki stood up too. “Kyoya, wait a minute.”  
Kyoya was already out the door, rushing down the hallway to the bathroom. Slamming the door shut behind him, he sagged against the vanity. The image of Kaoru’s bloody face swam before him. His stomach clenched and he dropped to his knees to retch into the toilet bowl. Burning with shame, he wiped the vomit from his mouth with his silk sleeve. What was wrong with him? Having night terrors like a child was disgraceful. He could only imagine what his father would say if he knew.  
Standing up to rinse the taste of bile from his mouth, he winced as he caught sight of his bruised face in the mirror. He hung his head over the sink and choked on a sob. He, Ootori Kyoya, a model of decorum and a prince of good breeding, was a total mess.   
Taking a deep but shaky breath, he pulled himself together and left the bathroom. He could hear the murmur of his friends talking as he came down the hall. He came through the door and the room was suddenly silent. He stood in the doorway as everyone stared at him, then exchanged guilty glances. Kyoya didn’t know what to say. How could he possibly explain what was happening to him when he didn’t even understand it himself? He stepped across the room and picked up his bag from beside the couch. He pulled out a sweater and slipped it on over his pajamas.  
“What are you doing?” asked Tamaki.  
“I’m going home,” answered Kyoya. He flipped open his phone and began tapping out a text requesting a driver to pick him up.  
“But it’s two in the morning,” said Honey.  
“Wait a minute, Kyoya,” Tamaki reached out and touched Kyoya’s elbow. “Just sit down for a second and we’ll—”  
Kyoya pulled his elbow away and glared at Tamaki who took a step back. Kyoya was surprised at his own feelings of anger. He didn’t want his friends to see him like this. He had never felt so embarrassed, and for some nonsensical reason he was angry at them for witnessing his shame. He needed to get as far away from everyone as possible.  
He shouldered his bag and turned to look down at Kaoru who was still sitting on the floor holding his face. Kyoya wanted to say how sorry he was, to express his mortification, but when Kaoru looked up at him, he couldn’t find anything to say. Frustrated, he turned and left.  
For a moment the room was silent before Hikaru spoke up. “What a prick.”  
“Don’t be like that,” said Kaoru. “It was an accident. He didn’t mean it.”  
“He didn’t even say he was sorry,” replied Hikaru.  
“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t,” said Honey. “It’s difficult for Kyo-chan to express his feelings.”  
Tamaki sat down on the couch and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking pensive. Haruhi sat down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder in a rare gesture of sympathy, but Tamaki was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kyoya lay on his couch, curled up on his side with his arms wrapped around himself, watching Sunday afternoon television. An old anime show flashed across the screen, but Kyoya’s absent stare failed to follow the storyline. Instead, he replayed the previous evening in his head. The looks in his friends’ eyes, the blood, the shame. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. He was an idiot to think that spending the night with other people would be a good idea. He had made a fool of himself in front the people whom he respected most. They could clearly see that he was losing his mind. He was a freak and now they all knew it. What if they kicked him out of the Host Club? There would be a scandal if anyone found out that the Club was allowing an unstable member to interact with clients.   
A knock on his bedroom door interrupted his self-deprecating thoughts. Before he could answer, Mori stepped into his room. Stunned by the tall boy appearing in his room, Kyoya just stared at him. Dressed in leggings, shorts, and a hooded pullover, Mori looked ready to hit the gym.  
Mori regarded Kyoya lying on the couch still wearing the sweater over his pajamas from last night. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked pale and haggard.  
“Hi,” said Mori.  
“Hello,” replied Kyoya still not moving from his position on the couch.  
Mori walked over and dropped his backpack on the floor. “Get up. We’re going for a run.”  
Kyoya blinked. “Where is Honey-senpai?”  
“Mitsukuni isn’t here.” Mori gestured towards Kyoya’s closet. “Get dressed.”  
“Mori-Senpai, I don’t—”  
Leaning down, Mori took Kyoya’s hand, pulled him up off the couch and led him to the closet. Kyoya stood nonplussed as Mori pulled out shorts and a t-shirt, shoving them into his arms.  
“Get dressed.”  
Too shocked to argue, he pulled his pajama top over his head and replaced it with the t-shirt.  
“Senpai, I’m not a runner.”  
“As of today, you are.” Mori spun Kyoya around and tied on his forehead a hachimaki with the kanji “fighting spirit” on either side of the rising sun motif.  
Feeling a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and dread, Kyoya followed Mori through the house, out the front door, and down the long, curving driveway. Unsure of what was going on, his three bodyguards fell in ten steps behind them.  
The overcast day had a cool wind that cut through Kyoya’s t-shirt like a knife. He chaffed his arms trying to combat the goosebumps raising on his flesh.  
“You know, our home gym has a treadmill,” said Kyoya.  
“Outside is better.”  
Reaching the estate gates, Kyoya stopped and turned to Mori, “Listen, Senpai, I appreciate you coming here, but I don’t really want to talk about what happened last night.”  
“We’re not talking. We’re running.”  
Mori broke into a slow jog and began to follow the property’s perimeter fence towards the estate’s garden. Not knowing what else to do, Kyoya followed. Together they followed the tall, wrought iron fence that circled the Ootori estate with Kyoya’s bodyguards keeping pace behind them. Through the maple trees, over the little garden bridge, along the edge of the koi pond, and past a weathered stone lantern. Unused to athletic activity, Kyoya was soon panting hard. His heart beat like a jackhammer in his chest. Beside him, Mori wasn’t even breaking a sweat.  
Kyoya tried to measure the distance by counting the stone pillars of the fence, but soon lost track. Careful not to tread on the Azaleas, they emerged from the edge of the garden and circled behind the property’s outbuildings. Kyoya saw the head gardener trying not to stare at them from inside his greenhouse as they jogged by. Coming around the back of the garage, it was a straight shot across the front lawn to the driveway gate. The chill he had felt earlier was long forgotten as sweat soaked into his t-shirt and hachimaki. Completing the lap, Kyoya stopped at the front gate and bent over with hands on his knees, trying to get air into his burning lungs. Mori came up and pushed on his back, propelling him forward.  
“Keep walking while you breathe, then we’ll go again.”  
Kyoya glanced back at his bodyguards who, like Mori, did not seem strained by the exertion. The thought crossed his mind that good staff should be intervening on his behalf. Even though they had their usual stoic expressions, looking at them he got the impression that they were finding this event amusing. He glared at them which caused them to fall back another five steps. Just when he got his breathing under control, Mori pushed him into a jog again.   
After only a few moments Kyoya tried to slow to a walk, “Mori, I can’t—”  
“Senpai,” corrected Mori.  
“Excuse me?”  
“I am your senpai,” said Mori. “And yes, you can.” He pushed Kyoya again.  
Chastised, Kyoya blushed and jogged forward. Mori had just pulled rank on him. He had never done that before and it surprised Kyoya. Clearly, all of this was meant to be punishment. He thought of his behaviour last night at the sleepover: disrupting movie night, hitting Kaoru, walking out on everyone. Shame made his throat tighten.  
“You can do this,” Mori gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. “Just keep breathing and we’ll do it together.”  
Kyoya looked up at Mori in surprise. A faint smile was on the taller boy’s normally stony face. Kyoya didn’t understand. If this was punishment, why was Mori being encouraging? Maybe this wasn't punishment. Maybe it was something else.   
Every time he got to the point where he thought his heart would burst Mori would let him walk, but as soon as his breathing evened out, he was made to run again. They carried on like this, lap after lap, for what felt like hours. Just when Kyoya thought he was going to vomit, Mori called a halt.  
“That’s enough. 5 kilometres in 47:25. Lots of room for improvement.”  
Kyoya sagged against the fence, then slid down to the ground.  
“Why did you make me do this?”  
Mori didn’t answer as he picked Kyoya up by his arms and set him on his feet. Keeping a hand on Kyoya’s shoulder, Mori led him back to the house.  
Reaching his room, Kyoya collapsed on to the couch. He picked up the TV remote, but Mori grabbed it out of his hand.  
“Don’t watch TV tonight.” Mori picked up his bag and pulled out two bottles of water, an apple, and a book. “Drink these. Eat this. And read this.”  
Kyoya picked up the book. It was a translated copy of Anna Karenina. “Um…Russian novels are not my usual taste.”  
“Read it. It will help.”  
“Help with what?”  
Mori slung his bag on his shoulder and headed for the door. As he was about to leave, he looked back over his shoulder. “Have you spoken to your father about what happened last night?”  
Kyoya stared at the book, turning it over in his hands. “No.”  
“You should talk to your father,” said Mori as he disappeared out the door.  
Kyoya dropped the book to the floor. He thought about his father. He couldn’t imagine trying to speak to him about sleepovers, nightmares, and inexplicable feelings of dread. His father often spoke of the strength of the Ootori family and how family members had a duty to uphold the family’s honour. He would be disgusted by his son acting like a frightened child.  
Feeling drained, Kyoya pulled himself off the couch and dragged his body into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he peeled his off his sweaty clothes and dumped them on the floor. He stepped under the water and turned it up as hot as he could stand. He stood with hands apart on the tiled wall in front of him, leaning forward with his head hanging down. He breathed through his mouth as the water ran down his back, turning his skin red. Everything hurt. His muscles, his head, and his heart. They were just bad dreams, he thought. They would go away and everything would go back to normal. It’s fine, nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong.  
When he couldn’t take the heat any longer, he stepped from the shower. A cloud of steam billowed out into the bedroom when he opened the door. He riffled his hair with a towel as he padded across the room to his dresser. A fresh pair of boxer shorts and a clean cotton t-shirt had him feeling a touch more human.  
Flopping on the couch, Kyoya picked up the TV remote, then caught sight of the book on the floor. He hesitated for a moment, then put down the remote. Retrieving the book, he turned it over in his hands, considering its cover. He picked up the apple Mori had left. He bit into it with a satisfying crunch. With one hand he flipped the book open to the first page.  
“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way…”

He woke with a start. The nightmare’s terror fading fast, he looked around trying to figure out where he was. After a heartbeat’s disorientation, he realized he had fallen asleep on his couch. His glasses where askew on his face and poking him painfully. Through the dim grey light, the clock on the wall read 5:56 AM.  
Kyoya let out a breath, sat up and held his head in his hands. He had slept through the night. A full night’s sleep. Relief washed over him like a tide. His eyes watered with emotion and he couldn’t help but smile.  
The book he had been reading was lying open, face down on the floor where it had fallen. Kyoya picked it up and smoothed out the pages.  
“Mori-senpai, you’re a genius. I think today is going to be a good day.”

Kyoya sat down at the family breakfast table. An elegant spread of rice, grilled fish, and miso soup was laid out before him. Feeling truly hungry for the first time in days, he dished himself out large helpings of each.  
His father sat at the head of the table, sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper. His brother, Akito, sat across from him, eating rice and flipping through a medical textbook.  
“Kyoya,” his father addressed him without looking up from his newspaper. “You’ve missed dinner three evenings in a row, and the head chauffeur tells me that you came home in the middle of the night on Saturday.”  
Kyoya suppressed a sigh. Nothing that went on in this house escaped his father’s notice. He made a tactical choice to not address his absence from dinner. “Yes, that’s right. I was supposed to stay over at the Hitachiin home with my friends, but I was feeling unwell so I came home.”  
His father flipped the corner his newspaper down and gave his son an examining stare.  
“I’m feeling much better now,” reassured Kyoya. Technically, the story wasn’t a lie. It was just vague. Any further questions from his father were interrupted by his mother entering the breakfast room. The three Ootori males politely stood while she sat down in the chair next to Kyoya’s.  
“It’s good to see you down at breakfast so early, Kyoya, dear.” She reached over and turned his face towards her with a finger. The bruise on his cheek had started to fade into a sickly yellow colour and Kyoya winced has she ran her thumb over it. “Tsk. I don’t think that nasty thing is going to heal before the trial. I don’t like you going out in public looking like this. You look like a common thug. I think we should try covering it up with makeup.”  
Kyoya looked at her in surprise. “Trial? What trial?”  
“The trial of those ruffians who tried to assault you, of course.” She let go of his face and started to dish out food onto her plate. “Your father has connections at the Ministry of Justice. He used them to get the court date moved up so we can get this whole ugly business dealt with and then forget that it ever happened.”  
A weight dropped in Kyoya’s stomach and he felt sick. His appetite evaporated and he pushed his half-finished plate away.  
“When?” he asked.  
“Hm?” His mother had already moved on to other things in her mind. “What’s that, darling?”  
Kyoya’s mouth felt dry. “When is the trial?”  
“Two weeks from now,” answered his father, flipping a page of his newspaper. “And it's not a trial, it's a sentencing hearing.”  
Kyoya made to reach for his water glass, but seeing his hand shake, he drew it back and hid it in his lap. “And…and I would have to go?”  
“I should think that was obvious,” snorted his brother Akito  
Ignoring Akito’s comment, Kyoya’s father folded his paper and stood up to leave. “You may be asked to speak. It will be short and you shouldn’t have to miss more than one day of school, so there is no need to worry.”  
They thought he was worried about falling behind at school. That was ridiculous, but what was more absurd was his inexplicable anxiety. Why was the thought of a hearing making his stomach roll? Unable to sit at the table any longer, Kyoya got up from his chair.  
“Leaving already?” asked his mother.  
Kyoya smiled at her and lied, “I have to meet up with a classmate to work on a project for school.”  
“Have a nice day, dear,” she said, returning his smile. “Work hard.”  
He nodded and rushed from the room. Picking up his bag, he practically ran out the front door to the car. Sliding into the back seat, he clutched his bag to his chest. His good day had lasted a little more than an hour.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kyoya sat at his desk listening to the teacher talk the class through a difficult math problem. He was focused on the explanation and working through the problem in his notebook. Watching the teacher’s hand move across the board, he felt a strange tingle run up his body. He couldn’t say where it came from, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. Heat flushed his face and the inside of his body twitched. He had to take deep breaths and concentrate on the fact that class was almost over, and he would be out of the desk soon. It was a long fifteen minutes until the lunch bell rang.   
He felt better once he was in the corridor. He wondered what that strange feeling had been. It was gone now, so he mentally shrugged and followed the flow of students towards the dinning hall.   
The hall was full of its usual buzz and clatter as students swirled around greeting friends, carrying plates, and finding seats. Kyoya paused by the lunch counter to scan the menu. He had hardly eaten at breakfast, yet he found that he still didn’t have an appetite. He turned away thinking that we would just head back to the classroom when someone came up and grabbed his hand. Startled, he jumped and wrenched his hand away, curling it into a fist.   
Honey was there smiling up at him. “Kyo-chan, Takashi and I have a table over there.” The boy pointed to the far side of the room. “Would you like to come sit with us?”  
Without waiting for an answer, Honey took hold of Kyoya’s hand and led him to the table. Feeling flustered, Kyoya allowed himself to be guided through the crowd. Mori was waiting at the table wolfing down a heaping plate of food. He paused as Kyoya and Honey sat down.  
“Not eating?” he asked Kyoya.  
“I’m not hungry.”  
Mori picked up a banana from his tray and set it in front of Kyoya.   
“Thank you, but I don’t—” Kyoya made to hand it back but the look Mori gave him made him hesitate and pull it back.   
Mori watched Kyoya peel the fruit. Satisfied that he was going to eat it, Mori turned back to his own lunch.  
“How was the book?” Mori asked between mouthfuls.   
Kyoya understood what he was really asking. “Good. You were right, it helped. Thank you.”  
“Kyoya!”  
Kyoya jumped in his seat as Tamaki clapped him on the shoulder.   
“I was looking everywhere for you. You disappeared out of the classroom so fast,” said Tamaki pulling up a chair to sit next to his friend.  
“Yes, I can imagine that it must have been difficult to figure out that I would be in the dinning hall at lunchtime,” was Kyoya’s dry reply. He rubbed his temple in irritation. He was getting sick of being startled by things around him. He needed to stop being so jumpy.   
“I just wanted to see if everyone could stay a little bit later after club time this afternoon,” said Tamaki. “I want to talk about a new cosplay idea.”  
Kyoya sighed and pushed his glasses up on his bridge of his nose while Tamaki rambled on. It wasn’t that he had forgotten about the scheduled club time after school, so much as he had been avoiding thinking about it. The very thought of having to put on charisma and charm for vapid schoolgirls exhausted him. It will be fine, he thought to himself. Remember that Host Club is something you enjoy doing.  
“Okay, I’m going to go find Haruhi and the twins and let them know about the late meeting.” Tamaki stood up from the table giving Kyoya a chuck on the shoulder that caused the dark-haired boy to flinch. “I’ll see you guys later.”  
Wanting to get out of the crowded dinning hall, Kyoya nodded a farewell to Honey and Mori and hurried back to the quite classroom. Alone, he took off his glasses and put his head down on his desk until the bell signaled the return of his classmates. 

The Host Club was at full capacity that afternoon. Each of the members had a full slate of clients and the room buzzed with cheerful chatter. The twins were playing a game where the girls got to measure their heights, each brother insisting they were taller than the other. Tamaki had pulled out his old standby of looking longingly into each of his clients’ eyes while whispering lovely phrases. Tucked in beside Mori, Honey was having the ladies help him write a haiku about bunnies.   
Kyoya put on a fake smile for the girls seated around him and sipped tea while they chatted amongst themselves. A knot had settled in his stomach that afternoon and he hoped that some chamomile would bring him a little relief. Across the table, Haruhi was picking up his conversational slack. Normally he would have felt bad for not putting in his fair share of effort, but Haruhi didn’t seem to mind, or even notice, that she was carrying him today.   
Out of nowhere, it began to happen again. The same uncomfortable tingle and alarming rush of heat from before. Something terrible was about to happen, he could feel doom descending. This time his fight or flight reflex responded. Without saying a word, he stood up from his seat and walked out of the room.   
In the hallway, he headed towards the bathroom. He began to feel dizzy. He struggled another ten steps before sinking to the floor. His chest was tight. Something was squeezing his heart. He tried to scratch at it, to dig it out. But it was unreachable. It was too deep.   
I’m going to pass out and not wake up, he thought. He curled up on the hard marble floor clutching at his chest. Hot tears streamed down is face. He couldn’t breath. His throat was closing up.   
“Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi poked her head out of the club room door. “Senpai, are you—” She caught sight of Kyoya’s balled up form down the corridor. “Senpai!” She rushed down the hall to kneel beside him. She was shocked to see him crying, his face a mask of terror.  
“I’m having a heart attack,” he gasped. “I’m dying.”  
“I’ll get Tamaki!” Haruhi stood up to run back to the room but stopped when Kyoya grabbed her.  
“Don’t leave me,” he sobbed. “Please, Haruhi.”  
Torn, she looked down at Kyoya’s distressed face, then back towards the club room. Taking his hand in both of hers, she knelt back down. “Kyoya-senpai, I’m going to go get help. I’ll be right back. I promise.”  
“Please. Haruhi.”   
She couldn’t tell if he understood what she had said, but releasing his hand, she raced back to the room, bursting through the door. “Senpai! Come quick! It’s Kyoya-senpai!”  
Tamaki leapt up from his seat so fast that the girl he was canoodling with fell over. With unexpected grace he jumped over the coffee table to the door and flew down the hallway. He found his friend writhing on the floor, crying hysterically.   
“It hurts. I’m going to die.”  
“You are not dying, Kyoya.” Tamaki pulled Kyoya up and leaned him back against the wall. Kyoya knew he was having a heart attack. He knew he was going to die.   
“You’re having a panic attack,” said Tamaki. “You need to calm down and breath,”  
He couldn’t breath. He didn’t know how. This couldn’t just be a panic attack. It hurt too much. It was too terrifying to be something so benign.  
“Look, Kyoya, look what I have for you.” Tamaki reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pen. He held it upright between their faces. “Look at this. It’s a beautiful flower.”   
What was he taking about? thought Kyoya. It wasn’t a flower, it was just a stupid pen.  
“It’s a flower, Kyoya. Let’s smell the flower together, okay?” Tamaki took a big breath in through his nose as if he were smelling the lovely sent of a rose. He flipped the pen over in his fingers. “Now it’s a candle. See, Kyoya? Let’s blow out the candle. Ready?” Tamaki released a long, slow breath from his mouth. He flipped the pen again. “Now, let’s smell the flower again. Do it with me, Kyoya.”  
Kyoya did his best to follow his friend’s breathing. It was difficult, but it helped to visualize the flower and the candle as Tamaki switched between them. Slowly, his breathing became more regular. The pain in his chest faded away. He felt frayed and drained. Taking off his glasses, he used his sleeve to wipe away the embarrassing tears from his cheeks.   
Replacing his glasses, he was surprised to notice that the other Host Club members were there surrounding him. Haruhi and Honey were kneeling on either side of Tamaki, above them Mori and the twins were standing facing outwards, guarding against any curious spectators.   
“I’m going to go get the school nurse,” said Haruhi getting to her feet.   
“No!” The urgency of his voice surprised even Kyoya. He took another deep breath. “Please, don’t. I’m fine now. I’m sorry for causing a commotion. I’m not sure what came over me.” Leaning forward, he shivered and wrapped his arms around his upset stomach.   
Tamaki shrugged out of his blazer and slung it around Kyoya’s shoulders. “It’s okay, you just got scared, that’s all.”  
“Scared?” said Kyoya. “I’m not scared. What do I have to be afraid of?”  
Tamaki smiled at this friend and rubbed his arm. “You’re scared from the attack. It’s okay to feel like that.”  
Kyoya stared at his friend in disbelief. Scared from the attack? That happened nearly five days ago. How could it be causing him to panic now?  
“That’s absurd,” he said climbing to his feet. “No one is going to try and kidnap me from the middle of Ouran Academy. Besides,” the volume of Kyoya’s voice began to rise. “Those goons that tried to grab me are all in jail right now. How could I possibly be afraid of them? It’s ridiculous.” He pulled Tamaki’s jacket off his shoulders and shoved it back at him. “I’m fine, okay. I’m just overtired from being dragged to stupid sleepover parties and forced to go running.” He shouldered his way through the group and headed down the hallway.   
“Kyoya, where are you going?” called Tamaki.  
“Obviously I’m going home!” he shouted back in anger.   
The group stood in stunned silence as they watched him disappear down the corridor.   
“I told you he’s a prick,” said Hikaru, folding his arms across his chest. Kaoru turned and punched his brother in the shoulder.  
“Kyo-chan’s emotions aren’t logical,” said Honey. “He doesn’t understand why he feels the way he does. By not acknowledging what’s causing his anxiety, he’s not able to work to control it.”  
“But his father is a doctor, right?” asked Haruhi. “He’ll be able to help Kyoya-senpai, don’t you think?”  
“He hasn’t told his father,” said Mori.   
“I should have known,” Tamaki let out a loud sigh. “Things are worse than I thought.”


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Kyoya dragged his tired body through the front door of his home. Drained, emotional, and shivering uncontrollably, he felt like his body had gone into shock. As if it was shutting down, giving up, and demanding that he sleep for a week.   
“Kyoya-kun, I’m so glad you’re home.”  
Kyoya looked up in surprise to see his sister Fuyumi coming out of the family study. She lived with her new husband, so it was unusual to see her here. She came towards him smiling, arms open for a hug. Her expression changed when she saw his pale face and bloodshot eyes.  
“Oh, my goodness, Kyoya, what happen? Are you all right?” She caught his face in her hands and brushed his hair from his face with her fingers. He winced, more from habit than pain, as she brushed against his bruised cheek.  
He wanted to fall into her open arms and pour his heart out to her. He had always been close with his older sister. He missed her now that she was married. Of all the people in his family, he had always been the most comfortable talking to her.   
“Honestly, Fuyumi, lately I’ve been feeling…” he wanted to tell her everything, the nightmares, the constant agitation, the panic attack in the hallway, “…a bit under the weather,” he finished lamely. He couldn’t do it. Overcoming a lifetime of behaviour just wasn’t possible to do in a few moments.   
“You’re like ice,” Fuyumi chaffed his hands attempting warm them.  
“What are you doing here? Father doesn’t like you hanging around. He says you have commitments to a new family now.”  
“Father is still at the office,” answered Fuyumi. “Besides, I was invited. Mother asked me to come and help pick out new paint and upholstery colours for the guest bedrooms.” Taking his arm, she walked with him to his room. “How long have you been feeling ill?”  
Kyoya considered his answer. “A few days, I suppose.” If he wasn’t going to be honest, he could at least be vague.  
“And you’ve been going to school? Oh, Kyoya, you work too hard.”   
“It wasn’t bad until this afternoon.” That was more or less true.   
Entering his bedroom, Fuyumi sat her brother down on the couch. Shaking out a blanket, she wrapped it around his shoulders, but he still shivered. Sitting down beside him, she ran her fingers through his hair in sympathy. He normally wouldn’t submit to her petting, but right now he found it comforting.   
“I’m going to run you a bath, have the kitchen send up some soup, and call Akito to come look at you since Father isn’t here.”  
Kyoya groaned. Even the mere thought of food made his stomach churn. “Please, Fuyumi, don’t. Akito isn’t a doctor.” Their brother was still a year away from finishing medical school.  
“He’s close enough for practical purposes.”   
“Fuyumi, no.”  
She stood up with her hand on her hip and pointed a finger at him. “Little brother, you cannot crawl into the house looking like that, shaking like a leaf, and expect me to do nothing.”  
Kyoya sighed. “Fine. But just the bath, please.”  
Pleased at being allowed to help, she skipped up the stairs to his bathroom. Kyoya soon heard the sound of running water filling the tub.   
Groaning again, he shrugged out of his uniform blazer and pulled the knot of his tie. Dumping them on the floor, he kicked off his shoes and socks. Padding barefoot up the stairs, he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the steps.   
Fuyumi came out of the bathroom as he reached the top of the stairs. She scanned his bare torso and sadly shook her head. “Oh, Kyoya.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’ll tell Mother that you won’t be going to school tomorrow.”  
He nodded his thanks and slipped past her into the bathroom. Seeing his reflection in the mirror, he understood his sister’s sad reaction. The bruises on his arms and shoulders were still clear as day. One could almost make out actual handprints on his biceps. He traced his finger along his sharp looking collar bone. He had always been lean and sinewy, but half a week of stress and hardly eating was already starting to show. He looked attenuated and angular.   
Turning away from his reflection, he clicked his tongue in disgust when he saw the large soaker tub. Fuyumi had put in bubble bath. He turned off the water and stripped off the last of his clothes. The warm water felt scalding against his cold skin as he gingerly lowered himself in.   
He breathed in the lilac scented bubbles. He had to admit that the fragrance was pleasant. He leaned back into the tub and felt the warmth from the water start to seep into his body. He groaned as the tension in his muscles evaporated bit by bit.   
Relaxed for the first time in days, Kyoya’s mind wandered back to that morning. It had started out so promising. What had turned it downhill so fast? His parents’ talk of the hearing set him on edge for some reason. Even now, the thought of going to court made his stomach screw up into a knot. He would do anything to not have to go.   
Now that’s an idea, he thought. Why did he have to go? There was no question of their guilt. Surely, he could just send a statement that could be read if needed. That way he could be free of the entire hassle. He smiled to himself as he cupped bubbles in his hands and pulled them under the water to watch them dissolve.   
What else was irritating him? Noise, crowds, and people startling him. It was all eating away at his patience and wearing him down. Taking a breath, he slid down into the water submerging his face up to his eyes. He couldn’t avoid going to class, he’d just have to buckle down and bear it. However, he could start going to class earlier when the hallways weren’t so busy, and he could stop eating lunch in the dining hall. That was easy enough. There was only one other problem time: Host Club hours.   
He lay back in the water, looking up at the ceiling. Did he really have to be there during the actual hosting? He didn’t do as much entertaining as the other members. He was mostly just the organizer. Couldn’t he set most of that up before the clients arrived? Tamaki wouldn’t like it, but so what? He wasn’t the one having meltdowns in the school corridor. If this is what needed to happen in order to prevent another panic attack, then he didn’t really have a choice. Kyoya let himself sink completely beneath the water, his breath slipping out in bubbles above him. 

The book landed on the floor with a thud. There was a pile of them scattered beside Kyoya’s bed. He lay on the edge reaching down with one hand, idly picking them up and tossing them aside. He had spent his day home from school alternately reading and dozing. Midday he had tried to eat some soup the kitchen had sent up, but it had only made him feel sick to his stomach. Despite this, his body was feeling better from the rest. His mind however, still felt like it was limping. He was having a hard time keeping his thoughts from wandering to anxiety-filled scenarios and worrying about events that never happened. As if he didn’t have enough to be troubled about, his brain insisted on making up new things to fret over.   
There was a knock on his bedroom door. Thinking it was the maid, he didn’t look up when he called his permission to enter. “And when you get a chance, please put some fresh towels in the bathroom.”  
“Oh, uh…I suppose I could do that. Where do you keep them?”  
Surprised, Kyoya sat up to see Tamaki come up the stairs to the loft and plop himself down on the foot of the bed. For a moment Kyoya just stared at his friend’s smiling face. “What are you doing here?” He must have come straight from school as he was still wearing his uniform.   
“I came to see you, ya goof.” Tamaki laughed and gave him a playful shove on the shoulder. “You didn’t answer any of my texts.”  
“Ah.” Kyoya had turned his phone off the night before and hadn’t thought to turn it back on.   
Tamaki’s face became serious. “How are you feeling?”  
“I’ll be at school tomorrow,” said Kyoya, looking away and adjusting his glasses.  
“That great.” Tamaki leaned closer. “But how are you feeling?”  
Kyoya sighed and turned to look out the bedroom window. Outside he could see the tops of trees trembling in the spring breeze.   
“Kyoya?”  
“Honestly, Tamaki, I’m fine. I’m just feeling tired and,” he paused, trying to find the right word, “disconcerted about what happened yesterday.”  
Tamaki shifted on the bed so that he was behind Kyoya. “I know. It’s okay.” With the softest touch, Tamaki began to message this friend’s shoulders. Kyoya closed his eyes and leaned back into it.   
“I just don’t know what caused it,” said Kyoya. “Which makes me concerned that it will happen again.”  
“You’ve just got to relax,” said Tamaki. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. You’re always working so hard.”  
Kyoya hung his head and arched his neck while Tamaki worked a knot by his shoulder blade. “I enjoy working.”  
“I know you do.” Tamaki pressed his fingers into his friend’s tense muscles. “But it doesn’t really help you unwind. You should spend time on your hobbies for that.”  
Kyoya groaned in equal parts pleasure and pain has Tamaki rubbed at the tightness in his back. “The Host Club is my hobby.”  
“I mean something you can do here at home, by yourself. Something that doesn’t make you think too hard.”  
“I read books.”  
“That’s a good start.” Sliding his hand along Kyoya’s arm as he climbed off the bed, he caught Kyoya’s hand and pulled him up. “I’ll show you what I like to do.”  
Kyoya pulled his hand out of Tamaki’s but followed him down the stairs and out of his bedroom. Tamaki led him along the gallery and down to the main floor. Humming tunelessly, he kept trying to catch hold of Kyoya’s hand, but Kyoya kept shaking him off.   
Pushing open the doors of the music room, Tamaki skipped over to the piano, slid onto the bench and ran his fingers down the keys. The grand piano’s voice filled the room with a light aria. Kyoya went to sit down on one of the couches along the edge of the room but paused when Tamaki suddenly stopped playing.  
“Don’t go all the way over there. Come over here and play with me,” said Tamaki, patting a spot on the bench beside him. Kyoya hesitated but went and sat next to Tamaki.   
“You know that I don’t know how to play. I haven’t studied music.”  
“Bah. You don’t need to study music to be able to make it. Just ask any pop idol. Here, I’ll show you.” Tamaki walked Kyoya through a simple cord progression. Together they repeated the four cords until Kyoya was able to keep the rhythm without faltering, then Tamaki began to play melodies over top. Some Kyoya recognized, others he didn’t. A few times he thought Tamaki was just improvising. All the while Kyoya kept a steady rhythm going.   
Music filled the room. Pop tunes, old classics, TV commercial jingles. Kyoya was amazed at all the songs Tamaki could pull out of his head. Sometimes Tamaki would sing along. He didn’t have the voice of a singer, but Kyoya smiled at the attempt while he focused on playing his part. They both laughed when Tamaki messed up a song and had to start again. For the first time, Kyoya thought he understood what drew people to master an instrument. All he could think about was the music. There was no room in his mind for fear or worry. He could breathe.  
Tamaki’s heart filled when he saw Kyoya give one of his rare, sincere smiles, then nearly bubbled over when he heard his genuine laugh. In the years that he had known him, Tamaki thought he could count how many times he had heard that laugh on one hand. He beamed at his friend, which in turn made Kyoya smile more.   
“Too sick to go to school, but apparently well enough to fool around with your friend.” The boys turned to find Kyoya’s brother, Akito, leaning on the door frame, looking smug.   
“Oh, no… we were just… we weren’t…” Tamaki stumbled over his words trying to explain. He didn’t know why he felt the need to explain at all. They hadn’t been doing anything wrong. He turned to Kyoya for guidance and was disheartened to see that his friend’s usual, stony mask was back. It was inevitable, but he would have liked to have kept lighthearted Kyoya around for a little longer.   
Cool as frost, Kyoya slid off the bench and gave a polite nod to his brother. “I’m feeling better this afternoon, thank you. I will be going to school tomorrow.” He turned to Tamaki and gestured towards the door. “You should probably go now. I have to make sure I have all my things together for class tomorrow.” Without making eye contact with his brother, Kyoya slipped past him in the doorway leaving Tamaki to follow behind.  
“Aw, Otouto, don’t be like that,” said Akito using a term of endearment for his little brother. “I’m not Father. I don’t care if you play hooky from school now and then. You have so much freedom, you should enjoy it.”  
Tamaki and Akito followed Kyoya out into the front vestibule of the house. He looked his normal, nonchalant self, but Tamaki could tell that Akito’s words had made him angry. His back was a little straighter, his shoulders tensed a little higher.   
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tamaki,” Kyoya called behind him as he climbed up the main staircase towards his bedroom. Tamaki could do nothing but watch him go.   
“Uh, yeah… Sure… Bye, Kyoya.” Tamaki gave his friend a small finger wave, but he knew Kyoya didn’t see it. Beside him Akito blew out a sigh.  
“I just don’t get that kid.”  
Tamaki wasn’t sure how to answer. To him, Kyoya wasn’t complicated at all. How could he explain his friend’s straight forward nature to someone who didn’t already see it? “He just takes himself very seriously.”  
“Yeah, but why?” asked Akito as they moved to the front door. “He’s the third son. He doesn’t have to live up to any expectations. He’s free to do anything he wants. So why doesn’t he take advantage of it?”  
Tamaki knew that Kyoya didn’t view his family’s prospects of inheritance, or lack thereof in his case, as freedom. Quite the opposite, in fact. But again, it wasn’t something he felt he could explain. Instead he said a polite goodbye to Akito and left the house.   
Walking across the driveway to where his chauffeur was waiting with the car, he wondered if his attempt to take care of his friend had done any good at all.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Kyoya sat in the quiet classroom reading a book. The rest of his classmates were in the dining hall for lunch, a place he was purposely avoiding. He was feeling sluggish from waking up several times during the night. The nightmares weren’t as bad as they had been. He wasn’t waking up screaming or soaked with sweat, but it was still impossible to get a full night’s sleep. The upshot was that it was much easier to get up early, something that he had never been able to do before. He got to school before most of the other students arrived and was in his seat ready for class a full thirty minutes before the bell. He spent the time working on a class assignment.   
So far, his strategy of staying away from noisy or crowed places was working as he’d hoped. He was tired, but not jumpy or nervous. The subtle but constant feeling of dread he had been carrying around with him for days wasn’t entirely gone, but it was so low that he could ignore it. Or perhaps he was just getting used to it.   
“Here you are!” said two voices in unison. “We’ve been looking for you.”  
Kyoya flicked his eyes up from his book to the twins standing in the classroom doorway. If he was surprised to see them, it didn’t show on his face. He snapped his eyes back to the book.  
“What do you two want?” he asked flatly.  
“Who said we want anything?” said the one he thought might be Hikaru.   
“Well, do you?” he asked.  
They paused, exchanged a glance, then answered in unison, “Yes.”  
Kyoya sighed as they moved into the room and perched themselves on the desk in front of him.   
“We need your help,” said the brother that was probably Kaoru. “Our Mom is hosting a party on Friday and she put us in charge of decorating.”  
“We’ve got almost everything ready, but we need help sorting out and finishing the last arrangements,” added the one that was maybe Hikaru.  
“Can you come over to our house after school?” they said together.  
“You want me to come over and help you with party decorations?” Kyoya found their request bizarre and wanted to make sure he understood what they were asking. “Is anyone else going to be there?”  
“Mori and Honey have martial arts practise,” said one.  
“Tamaki has an appointment with his Dad,” said the other.  
“And Harui just said no,” said both.  
“I see.” Kyoya turned a page in his book to emphasize his indifference. “So now you’re at the bottom of your list of people to ask.”  
“Oh, don’t be like that.”  
“The only reason we asked you last is because we couldn’t find you.”  
“Yeah, what do you expect when you’re hiding out in a classroom all by yourself?”  
Kyoya looked up from his book and scrutinized the twins’ faces. It was always difficult to judge the twins’ sincerity, but it seemed to him like today they were genuinely in earnest. He tried to think of an excuse not to help but couldn’t find one.  
“Please, senpai,” they whined. “If we don’t get everything done tonight, we might have to miss club time tomorrow. The girls will be disappointed. You’ll have to reschedule the bookings. It might even affect club revenues.”  
He had to hand it to them, they were master manipulators. They always knew what button to press. “Fine, I’ll help.”  
“Great!” They jumped off the desk just as the class bell rang. “We’ll meet you at the main gates after school.”   
The pair darted for the door before Kyoya could ask for any further details. He shifted uneasily in his desk. A knot twisted in his stomach while he watched them leave. He already regretted his decision. 

The Hitachiin mansion was a hive of activity. The party was still two days away, but already preparations were underway. Rooms were being rearranged to accommodate large numbers of people, supplies were being delivered to the kitchen, and staff members were scrubbing every visible inch of the house.   
The twins led Kyoya through the flurry and up to their private rooms. Inside were boxes of recently delivered fresh cut flowers and greenery. To one side of the twins’ large living area were stacks of bronze pots, vases, and containers of all types. Kyoya looked through the various materials while the twins shoved furniture out of the way to make a large open space.   
“What is it exactly that you need help with?” asked Kyoya picking up and examining a rose bud.   
“We need to put together the flower arrangements,” said Hikaru as he knelt on the floor and began pull out flowers and sort them out by type.   
“Our family is renowned for our skill in Ikebana, the art of flower arranging. When guests come to our house for parties and such, they expect to see lots of arrangements, and we me make sure to oblige,” said Kaoru, sitting down next to his brother.   
“Yes, but what do you want me to do?” asked Kyoya kneeling down across from them.   
“Haven’t you been listing? We need you to make flower arrangements. Duh.”  
He sat staring at the twins. Only his strict upbringing prevented his jaw from hanging open. He blinked and shook his head. He must be misunderstanding them, he thought.   
“You mean, you want me to sort out these materials for you to use, right?”  
The brothers clicked their tongues in unison and looked at him as if he were stupid.   
“No,” said Hikaru. “We mean, you need to take these flowers and put them in those vases. Try to make them look nice while you’re at it.”  
Kyoya shook his head. “I can’t do this. I don’t know anything about Ikebana.”  
“Of course you do,” said Kaoru, reaching over and placing a copper pot in front of Kyoya. “Every school child in the history of Japan has had to create an Ikebana arrangement as part of a school project. It’s tradition.”  
“You remember doing it in school, don’t you?” asked Hikaru.  
“Yes, but I was a child, and it was only once. I don’t actually know what to do. I certainly can’t create anything that would be up to the standards of your family.”  
Both twins gave him a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter. These are just going to be background filler. No one is going to be looking at them closely.”  
Kaoru moved over next to him and put a white lily in is hand. “Remember, the name of the game is simplicity. Just take a deep breath, relax your mind, and put the flower where it feels right.”  
Across from him, Hikaru began to demonstrate by picking out five pink tulips. Kyoya watched him trim the stems to different lengths then place them into a glass vase. Next, he chose a long, thin dogwood branch that forked and twisted like lighting. He turned it around his hands and carelessly clipped off pieces here and there. Satisfied, he added it to the vase. He picked up another branch, examined and discarded it. He inspected three other branches like this until he found one to his taste. It was smaller, with a few dry brown leaves clinging to it. He nestled it into the vase amongst the tulips. Hikaru assessed his arrangement, adjusting a bloom here, turning a leaf there. Then suddenly it was done. He turned it around for Kyoya to see the full effect.   
“See, it’s easy.”  
Kyoya’s eye wandered over the arrangement, taking in its perfect asymmetry, the cheerful life of the pink flowers juxtaposed with the decaying death of the brown leaves. It was a piece worthy of a master, and Hikaru had seemingly thrown it together with hardly a thought and called it easy. Kyoya knew better. He understood that what had just happened in front of him was the result of years of immersion in the art form. He couldn’t hope to make something that would compare. They were Rembrandts painting in oils while he was a child drawing with crayons.   
“Here, I’ll help you start,” said Kaoru. “Just clear your mind and focus on the flowers.” He took Kyoya’s hand holding the lily and guided him to place it in the copper pot. “It’s a bit like meditation.” He handed Kyoya more flowers and a wide fern frond. “Ikebana is about expression. It allows the artist to share their feelings with the viewers. Let your emotions pick and place the flowers.”  
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less then share his feelings with strangers, through flowers or otherwise. Dutifully, he placed three white lilies in the pot along with the two fern fronds and a dogwood branch. He looked at his arrangement, and he had to admit it was a pretty good representation of how he was feeling in his heart. It was a mess. Chaotic, jumbled, and ugly.   
He glanced up at Kaoru who grimaced as he looked at the flowers. Kaoru caught Kyoya looking at him and tried to hide his dissatisfaction with a weak smile. Kyoya looked back at his creation in disgust. What were they expecting anyway? he thought. He was a businessman, not an artist. Might as well ask a fish to climb a tree. He pushed the pot away in frustration and got up from the floor.   
Kaoru caught his hand. “Hey wait. Where are you going?”  
“This is pointless,” Kyoya pulled his hand away. “I can’t do this. I’m going home.”  
“No, stay. It’s fine,” said Kaoru indicating the lilies. “It was only your first try. We’ll help you.”  
Kyoya sneered. “I’m supposed to be helping you. Clearly, my efforts are more a hinderance than a help. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”  
The twins watched him disappear out the door, then turned and stared at each other for a moment. Kaoru turned to Kyoya’s flower creation and adjusted one of the blooms. Muttering something rude about Kyoya under his breath, Hikaru pulled his phone from his pocket and started dialing.   
“Hey, we screwed up,” he said into the phone. “He just left. You should get over to his house right away.”  
Beside him, he watched Kaoru pull out one of the fern fronds and adjust the height of the branch. Suddenly the muddled mess was clear and sharp. It was beautiful and perfect.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Two silver Mercedes were parked in front of his house when Kyoya’s own car rolled up the driveway. He hardly spared them a glance as he climbed the steps to the front door. It wasn’t unusual for his father to entertain business colleagues at home. Entering the front vestibule, he was greeted by one of the staff. She took his school bag and said that guests were in the family study. He sighed. He would have to go and give his greetings for politeness sake. It was annoying but would only take a few moments. Then he could shut himself in his room for the evening.   
He stepped into the study to find Honey and Mori sitting, drinking tea. Kyoya first felt a spike of anger, then as if all the energy suddenly left his body. First the twins and now these two. He sighed and hung his head in defeat. “I thought you two were training at the dojo,” he said.   
“Kyo-chan!” Honey jumped up from the settee and bounded over to him. “We finished early. Now we’re going to go for a run. Come with us!”  
“What? Running? No!” Kyoya was losing his patience. The anger boiled up again and his voice was getting sharp. “What are you doing here? What do you want? You should go home. I didn’t invite you here.”  
“Kyoya!”  
Kyoya flinched. He hadn’t seen his father come through from the library next door. If Kyoya’s tone had been harsh, his father’s was scathing.   
“In this house we never speak to guests in such a manner.” Mr. Ootori came over and put a firm hand on his son’s shoulder while turning to the other boys. “I apologize for my son’s behaviour. You are quite welcome here Haninozuka-san and Morinozuka-san. Kyoya will be happy to join you for whatever activity you are doing this evening. Isn’t that right, Kyoya?” His father gave his shoulder a hard sneeze that made him wince. He understood the message.  
Kyoya bowed in apology to his friends. “Please forgive my rudeness, senpais. I would be glad to come running with you.” His father gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and let his son go.   
With a fake smile on his face, Kyoya led Honey and Mori out of the family study and up to his room. He resisted the urge to rub at soreness in his neck and shoulder. His father was neither a harsh nor cruel man, but he never hesitated to set his children straight when they failed to live up to his high standards.   
As they entered Kyoya’s room Honey suddenly cried out and wrapped his arms around Kyoya’s waist. “I’m so sorry, Kyo-chan! We didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your dad.” He looked up at the taller boy with tears in his eyes.  
Kyoya curled his lip in disgust as he tried to pry Honey off his hip. “It’s fine. I was being rude. He was right to correct me.” Despite Kyoya’s efforts to push him off, Honey squeezed tighter. Kyoya was rescued when Mori grabbed his cousin by the collar.  
“Mitsukuni, let him go. He doesn’t like it.”  
Honey released him, took a step back and stared up at Kyoya with giant, tear-filled, eyes. “I’m sorry. I just don’t like seeing anyone being mean to you, Kyo-chan.”  
Kyoya sighed. It was impossible to be angry in the face of such sincerity. “Would you like to tell me again why you are here?”  
“Takashi said that you’ve taken up running. We came to see if you would like to come for a run with us,” answered Honey as he and Mori moved to the closet and started pulling out clothes. Kyoya was helpless to stop them as Honey crawled into the bottom of the closet and threw out three different pairs of sneakers.  
“I just went running once. One time does not make me a runner,” he protested.  
“Exactly,” said Mori. “You need to keep doing it for it to be beneficial.” He dumped some clothes into Kyoya’s arms and began tying the “fighting spirit” hachimaki around his head.   
For a moment Kyoya thought about just telling them to leave. Damn what his father said. He imagined himself throwing down the clothes and the tossing Honey out the door. It was an amusing thought for an instant, and if he had more emotional energy, he might have actually tried it. But right now it was easier to just go along with it. He hastily changed his clothes. The sooner they got this run over with, the sooner Honey and Mori would leave.   
Together the trio set off out of the house towards the front gates of the Oortori estate. As they passed through the front door, Kyoya saw his bodyguard, Hotta, move to follow them, but he waved him off. He didn’t need an audience for what was sure to be another round of humiliation. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Hotta smirk as he went back to the staff lounge.   
Once again starting at the front gate, Mori set a slow, steady pace along the fence line, and Kyoya did his best to keep up. Honey bounced around them, chattering incessantly. “How big is your family’s estate? What are those outbuildings over there? Takashi’s house has a swan pond. What kind of fish do you have in your pond? Takashi loves water features. If I were to become an artist, I think I’d be the kind of artists that designs fountains. Does that kind of artist have a special name?” On and on. Neither Mori nor Kyoya replied to anything Honey said. Mori, because he didn’t feel it was necessary, and Kyoya because he couldn’t spare the breath.   
Through the garden, around the pond, towards the outbuildings, the boys’ footsteps crunched on the gravel as the wind rattled the branches of the budding trees above their heads. As before, they ran until Kyoya couldn’t breathe, then they’d walk for a bit before running again. This time wasn’t as painful as before. Maybe because he wasn’t quite so sleep deprived, or maybe Honey’s babbling was distracting him, but it seemed like his walking breaks were shorter, if no less frequent. Again, Mori’s breathing had barely increased, and despite his short legs, Honey loped along beside them as easily as a rabbit when he wasn’t dashing off to investigate the curiosities of the garden.  
In a surprisingly short time, Mori looked at his watch and called a halt near the front gate. “5k in 44:17. Better.” Kyoya was amazed. Even though they had only shaved about 3 minutes off their previous time, the run had seemed much shorter than before. His lungs, however, still burned, and he felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. Fighting his nausea, he allowed Honey to lead him over to a neat patch of grass on the manicured lawn. Honey and Mori knelt on the grass. Kyoya, unsure what they were doing but following their lead, knee-planted heavily across from them.   
“Close your eyes,” instructed Honey.  
“What? Why?” asked Kyoya.  
“Just do it. Clear your mind and just focus on your breathing,” Honey closed his own eyes and took in a deep breath. Beside him Mori did the same. Still panting heavily, Kyoya just stared at the pair trying to figure out what they were doing. Honey opened one eye at him. “It doesn’t work unless you close your eyes.”  
Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and took as deep a breath as he could manage. Honey started talking. His voice was low and soft, not the cutesy, high-pitched squeak he normally spoke in. “We’re just focusing on the present moment, how our body is feeling, and our breathing. Don’t worry if your mind wanders. When it does, make note of the thought and dismiss it, bringing your focus back to your breath.”  
Kyoya made his mind go blank and felt his breathing start to slow. It lasted maybe five full seconds before thoughts started crowding into his head. What was the point of this? The grass was poking his legs. He had to remember to make sure his math assignment was ready to hand in tomorrow. The breeze was chilly and he wished he had a sweater. How long were they going to sit here like this? He should call his sister later.   
As soon as he noticed he was thinking and let go of the thought, a new one popped up. It was shockingly difficult to not think. After ages of silence, Honey blew out a deep breath and turned to Mori. “How long was that?”  
Mori glanced at his watch. “Almost four minutes.”  
“That’s it?” asked Kyoya. He felt like it had been at least ten or fifteen.   
Honey grinned at him. “It gets easier with practice.” Honey’s face became serious again. “Kyo-chan, have you spoken to your father about the difficulties you’ve been having?”  
Kyoya knew instantly what Honey and Mori had done. They had exhausted him both physically and mentally. His normal defences were low. Any other time, he would have denied that he was even having any problems, but their strategy worked and Kyoya didn’t have the energy to put up a fight.  
“I can’t.” Kyoya kept his eyes down on the grass. He ran his fingers over the blades, feeling the soft green shoots tickle his palm. “I don’t know what to tell him. He’d be disappointed.”  
“What makes you say that?” asked Honey.  
“Because I know him,” Kyoya snorted. “He’s disgusted by weakness. The Ootori family are never weak. He’d be appalled if I told him I was having nightmares like a child. And what happened in the hallway at school… was shameful.”  
Honey reached out and touched Kyoya’s knee causing him to look up into his face. “Kyo-chan, would your father think you were weak if you broke your arm? Do you believe he would be ashamed if you needed help healing a physical injury?”  
“No, of course not. My father is a doctor. That’s what doctors do.”  
“Then, don’t you think that as a doctor, your dad would understand if maybe you need help healing a mental injury?”  
Kyoya blinked. He didn’t know what to think about Honey’s statement. He felt his stomach twist. He clasped his hands in his lap to stop them from trembling.   
“I…don’t know,” he couldn’t look at the older boys. Instead he examined his hands in his lap. “Mental injury. Like mental illness. You think I’m crazy.”  
“Of course we don’t,” said Honey reaching for Kyoya’s hands. “Everybody gets physically sick sometimes. And everybody also gets mentally sick too. But like your body getting better on its own, most of the time mental illness goes away after a little while. We don’t even notice that it ever happened. But sometimes we need extra medicine to get better. It’s normal.”   
Kyoya felt the unpleasant tingle run up his spine. He took deep breaths and it helped. Honey smiled at him and continued.  
“But I think what’s happening to you is more like a broken arm then having the flu. You’re not weak, but those men who attacked you, they hurt you. You thought it was just a bruise, like your face, but it’s more serious than that and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to heal on its own. It needs medical attention.”  
Kyoya’s head swam and he had to close his eyes. Thinking about the attack always made him feel sick to his stomach, so he had just avoided it. Deep down, he had known that the attempted kidnapping had caused all of this. It was obvious, but it had been easier to pretend that it wasn’t. Now multiple voices were clashing in his head. One was yelling that Honey was right and that he was a stupid fool to think otherwise. Another was screaming at him to run away, that these thoughts were too painful to think about and he needed to get away from them. Yet another was telling him that he was an idiot to be afraid, that his attackers were in jail and no one was out to get him.   
It was too much. He staggered to his feet and reeled with dizziness. He tried to move towards the house, but his body felt numb and his stomach rolled. He didn’t even make it ten steps before his had fallen back to his knees. He gagged and retched, but there was nothing in his stomach. The result was painful dry heaves.   
In an instant, Mori was kneeling beside him rubbing his back in sympathy. Kyoya sat back and wiped his watering eyes with the back of his hand. He sucked down deep breaths which helped him feel more in control, but his stomach still hurt, and he couldn’t stop shaking.   
“I’m sorry, Senpais, but I’m not feeling well,” said Kyoya as Mori helped him to his feet. His voice was flat and he avoided looking at their faces. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He didn’t want to think about this stuff. “I’m going to go back to the house to lay down. I trust you can see yourselves back to your cars. Please forgive me for not seeing you off properly.” He gave them a polite bow then turned and trudged back to the house.   
They stood on the lawn and watched him go. Honey’s face was a mask of despair and even Mori wore a slight frown. Honey reached up to hold Mori’s hand. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”   
“You didn’t,” said Mori. “He was already hurt. You just made him look at the wound. It needed to be done.”  
Honey nodded, “Now maybe he’ll stop ignoring it.”  
“It’s a first step.”  
“Still,” Honey climbed up on Mori’s back “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish he’d let us help him instead of pushing us away.”  
Piggybacking his cousin, Mori headed towards their cars parked at the front of the house. “It’s not his way. But we’ll look after him. Tamaki will make sure of that.”

Taking off his glasses, Kyoya splashed water onto his face. It ran down his cheeks and nose in tiny streams and dripped back into the bathroom sink. He leaned on the vanity, peering at himself in the mirror. His face was pale except for the bruise on his cheek which by now had faded to a dull greenish yellow. The vibrant purple was gone.   
“Did you hear? You’re ‘mentally injured’,” he said to his reflection. “Do you know what that means? It means you’re going crazy.” He ran his hand through his damp hair, slicking it back. It made him look like a different person. This new person gave him a cold sneer.   
“Idiot. You already knew you were going crazy. You didn’t need Honey to tell you. And you also know what happens to people of our rank when they crack up. Their family hides them away. They all but disappear, kept under lock and key for fear of causing embarrassment. And that’s what’s going to happen to you.”  
Kyoya shook his head at the cruel person in the mirror. “No, my family wouldn’t do that. Fuyumi wouldn’t let them.”  
His reflection let out a short harsh laugh. “You stupid child. As if your sister could stop your father from doing anything. You come from a family of doctors, so you know what they’ll do? They’ll prescribe you pills to keep your brain in a comfortable fog so you’ll never have to think clearly or have an original thought again. And know what else? If you keep talking to yourself in the mirror like this, they might use their connections to get you admitted to a mental institution. But don’t worry, it will be one of those luxury resort facilities, as befits a member of the esteemed Ootori family.”   
Frustrated, Kyoya splashed water onto the mirror and stomped out of the bathroom. He collapsed onto his bed and pulled a pillow over his head. Honey was right about one thing. He wasn’t weak. He could control this, manage it. His plan of avoiding uncomfortable situations would work. No one in his family would have to know.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The doors to Music Room 3 opened with dramatic flair as Tamaki swaggered in. It was nearly time for the Host Club to begin welcoming guests and, as always, Tamaki was excited. He cast a proud eye over the other hosts as they readied the final touches. Haruhi and Honey were loading the serving cart with desserts. Mori carried hot teapots to each of the tables followed by the twins with the floral centerpieces. Tamaki grinned and snatched a cookie from the cart while he glided by.

“You know, Kyoya, I’ve been thinking we should redecorate this room,” said Tamaki. “Let’s put up mirrors all along the walls and make it look like the Palace of Versailles. What do you think? Kyoya?” He whirled around to face Kyoya’s desk. It was empty. “Mommy? Where’s Mommy?”

“He left,” said the twins.

Tamaki turned to them in confusion. “Left? What do you mean he left?”

“We mean he walked out the door and went home,” said Hikaru.

“What other meaning is there?” said Kaoru.

“But…but we have guests,” said Tamaki, ignoring the twins’ sarcasm. “He’s a host. He’s supposed to be here hosting!”

“He seems to have everything set up and ready to go. He left us this folder with everything we need,” said Haruhi. She flipped it open and started handing out pages. “Here’s everyone’s designations for today. He says that from now on clients can email their host requests to the club’s email. He also asks that we remind clients that, uh…” she flicked through the pages and pull one out to read directly. “To remind clients that ‘the new fanzine Spring Time with The Host Club, complete with full colour pullout print, is available for purchase. 50,000 yen. Cash or credit.’ Do girls honestly pay 50,000 yen for this stuff? That’s absurd.”

“You think so?” asked Honey “I was surprised it wasn’t priced higher. How much do commoner magazines go for?’

“And don’t forget,” said the twins. “We get the highest print quality.”

“High gloss photos,” added Mori.

“Guys!” cried Tamaki, jumping onto the couch. “I think you are missing the important point here! Kyoya left! Why? Why would he leave us?”

Haruhi tossed the folder onto a table. “Considering what happened last time during club time, I’m not surprised that he doesn’t want to be around a crowd of people.”

The room went quite for a moment while they each remembered Kyoya’s anxiety attack in the hallway the week before.

“Yeah, but why would he just leave?” asked Tamaki stepping down from the couch. “Why didn’t he say something to us? We’re his friends.”

“Because he’s a jerk that never thinks of anyone but himself,” said Hikaru with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You’re one to talk,” muttered Haruhi.

“That’s not fair, Hika-chan,” said Honey. “Kyo-chan is going through a hard time.”

“Oh, so because Kyoya-senpai had something bad happen to him he gets a free pass on his poor behaviour? I remind you that Tono was also attacked, yet he’s not wandering around dazed and being an asshole to all his friends.”

“Hikaru…” Kaoru reached out to try and calm his agitated brother, but Hikaru shrugged him off.

“He won’t talk to anyone. He spends all his time hiding in his classroom. He won’t even come to the dining hall for lunch. Doesn’t answer phone calls or texts. He stormed out of the sleepover without apologising. Did the same thing at our house yesterday. Now he’s just checked out of the club that he’s the Vice President of and left it to apparently run on its own. We’re just supposed to be okay with this? Okay, I get that he’s sick, but does that mean he suddenly doesn’t have to treat us with respect? That he can walk all over us and we just take it because we’re his friends? Well sorry, but I’m not okay with that. Why are we knocking ourselves out trying to help him when he clearly doesn’t want it?” Hikaru threw up his hands in disgust and flopped down onto the couch. 

There was a moment of awkward silence before Mori put his hand on Hikaru’s shoulder. “You’re wrong.”  
When no further explanation seemed forthcoming, everyone looked to Honey to interpret. He sat on a chair with Usa-chan on his lap. He fiddled with the bunny’s ears as he expanded on his cousin’s statement. “Kyo-chan does want help. He wants it a lot. But he doesn’t know how to ask for it, and more importantly, he doesn’t know what to do with it when he gets it. It makes him feel embarrassed and uncomfortable, so he pushes it away even though it’s the thing he wants more than anything else.”  
The Host Club members sat and stared at each other. What could anyone say to that? The heavy silence was broken by a girl popping her head through the music room door.  
“I beg your pardon, Tamaki-sama, but the other girls and I are out here wondering if the Host Club is opening today. Is there a problem? Should we come back another day?”  
Tamaki sprang up from the couch and the other hosts followed suit. “My apologies, Princess. Please come in everyone. The Ouran Highschool Host Club welcomes you!” Worrying about Kyoya would have to wait a few hours. 

Kyoya sat in the empty bathtub, fully clothed, with his knees drawn up to his chest and the side of his head resting against the cool tiled wall. He stared unseeing at a droplet of water dangling, threating to fall from the tub’s faucet. He didn’t know why he was sitting in the tub. He wasn’t even asking the question. He had arrived home feeling dizzy and nauseous. Never in his life had he felt so sick. He hugged himself tightly around his stomach as it twisted in vicious knots. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he shivered.   
It had started as soon as he had left the music room after dropping off his instructions for the Host Club. He hadn’t expected to feel guilty. He rarely felt guilt in general, but leaving without speaking to his friends felt cowardly and it bothered him. He meant to stay and talk to them about limiting his hosting duties, but as he waited for them, he found himself growing nervous. He could picture the six of them crowding close, bombarding him with questions. The thought of it had made his chest tight and his hands started shaking. He had dropped his notes for them on one of the tables and rushed from the room.   
He thought getting away from the situation would make him felt better, but instead of better, it just felt different. Maybe even worse. He wanted to see his friends, had been looking forward to it all day, in fact. They were the people he most cared about, and who cared about him. It seemed like forever since they had all just been together, doing normal Host Club things. He missed them. He wished they were here with him now. Well, he thought, maybe not all at once. That would be overwhelming. Maybe just one at a time. Maybe just Tamaki.   
He closed his eyes and thought back to the last time he had been with Tamaki. He had appeared in his bedroom and dragged him down to the music room. He smiled faintly to himself, remembering playing the piano with his best friend. He had never experienced anything like it. It was fun, and he had felt real joy and deep peace. He wondered if he would ever feel like that again. Right now, he didn’t even need to feel good. He would be satisfied to just not feel bad. He longed to talk to Tamaki, even just on the phone. Instead, he opened his eyes, pulled his arms around himself a little tighter, and watched as the water drop on the faucet fell and obliterated itself on the drain below.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Kyoya could not pay attention in class. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night and it showed. After lunch, his Physics teacher had even asked him if he was okay and if he wanted to go to the infirmary. He was tempted, but he knew if he went, they would call his parents, so he politely declined and toughed it out for the rest of the Friday afternoon. Now it was the last period of the day, English, and he just could not focus on the list of irregular verbs they were supposed to be practicing. He stared at the clock as his mind wandered. Twenty minutes left to go. An eternity.   
He thought back to his sleepless night. Whiling away the early morning hours, he had thought to check his phone. There had been a dozen missed calls and twice as many text messages. His stomach kicked him when he saw that they were almost all from Tamaki, so he skipped over them and opened his email. There were two that caught his eye. One was an invitation to the Hitachiin party that very evening. It was nice of them to think of him, he thought before deleting it. The other was an unexpected note from Haruhi. She very politely asked him if he would be available after school to come to her house to help her with some schoolwork. The request was so surprising and intriguing that he typed out and sent a positive reply before he had actually thought about it. He wondered how Haruhi would take it if he told her that he was too tired to go to her house today. Perhaps she would be okay with postponing until tomorrow.   
The bell rang and the room filled with the sound of scraping chairs and excited chatter. Slipping his books into his bag, he jumped when someone put their hand on his shoulder. He snapped his head around to find Tamaki standing beside him. They hadn’t spoken all day. Tamaki hadn’t even tried to get his attention during class, which Kyoya found odd. Now he was there smiling at him, but his eyes looked sad. Kyoya was about to ask him what was wrong, but Tamaki spoke first.  
“I’m around this weekend. Call me, if you want,” Tamaki gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Otherwise, have a good weekend, and I’ll see you Monday. Okay?”  
Kyoya blinked. “…Okay.” He watched Tamaki leave the classroom chatting with some girls. He wasn’t sure what Tamaki’s reaction would be to him missing club time yesterday, but he never dreamed it would be this. It was a relief, yet also disconcerting. Further thoughts were interrupted by Haruhi knocking on the doorframe as she stepped into the classroom.  
“Kyoya-senpai, are you ready to go? I really appreciate you coming to help me out today.” She stopped when she saw his haggard face. “Are you okay?”  
“Fine,” he answered automatically. He sighed. “Actually, Haruhi, I don’t think I can help you today.” He saw her face fall with visible disappointment. He felt bad about letting her down. “Well, I mean…what is it exactly you need help with?”  
Haruhi looked down at the floor and fidgeted with her hands as if embarrassed. “I…I was hoping you could help me with some math problems. There’s big exam next week and I’m having some trouble with a few of the concepts. I need to do well on this test, or I might lose my first rank. If that happens, they’ll take away my scholarship.”  
Kyoya raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You want me to tutor you? Honey-senpai is the most proficient in math. Why not ask him?”  
Haruhi gave a short, harsh laugh. “I need someone who can stay on topic and not get distracted. This is really important to me.”  
Kyoya nodded his head in agreement with Haruhi’s assessment. The other host club members could be distressingly unproductive sometimes. He stifled a yawn, then looked back up at Haruhi. She was looking at him with such earnestness that he just couldn’t bring himself to put her off. Besides, it was only some math practise, nothing very strenuous. He picked up his bag and checked his watch.   
“My car should be waiting at the front gate. Are you ready to go?”  
Haruhi’s face broke into a bright smile. For a moment Kyoya completely understood why Tamaki and the twins fawned over her.   
The car ride over to Haruhi’s apartment was quiet. One thing he always appreciated about Haruhi was her ability to be quiet. Other people always seemed to feel the need to fill the air with endless chatter. Haruhi on the other hand, was comfortable in silence. It was a trait they shared.   
The car rolled up in front of the apartment building and the pair climbed out. He must have looked even sicker than he thought because Haruhi gently put her hand on his elbow and guided him up the stairs to the door of her second-floor apartment. Inside, Kyoya immediately set himself down cross-legged on the tatami mats.   
“I’m going to make us some tea,” said Haruhi going into the kitchen. “Did you want anything to eat? I have leftover soup that will only take a minute to reheat.”  
“No, thank you,” he answered, pulling his notebook out of his bag. “Just tea is fine.”  
After fussing around in the kitchen for a few minutes, Haruhi brought the tea tray into the living room and set it on the low table in the center of the room. Sitting down across from Kyoya, she pulled out her own notebook and a page of math problems. Together they worked through five of the problems. Kyoya could tell right away that Haruhi wasn’t having any trouble solving them. She asked him questions, but it was obvious that she already knew the answers.   
“Haruhi, why am I here?”  
“Senpai?”  
“You clearly don’t need my help with these math problems.”  
“Oh, you know, I just…” she shifted on the floor and plucked at an invisible thread on her sleeve. “It’s just, I, we, the host club, haven’t seen you around much lately. We really…” she gazed into the air to find the right words, “…notice your absence. The guys can be a lot to handle, so I thought maybe you’d like to hang out quietly. In case…in case you were maybe feeling…a bit isolated.”  
Kyoya set his pencil down and clasped his hands in his lap. She was right, he did miss them, but the thought of going on a weekend adventure with them, or even just doing regular Host Club activities, made his chest tighten. Now, here was Haruhi, confessing that they missed him too. He didn’t know how to respond to such a gesture of friendship, so he said nothing. Haruhi looked down at her notebook and doodled a circle on the corner of the page. She didn’t look up when she spoke.   
“Sometimes when my life gets crazy, I like to do math problems. I have since I was a little kid. Math is so black and white. It’s not open to opinion or interpretation. The answer is either right, or its wrong. Even when your answer is wrong, you can go back and find your mistake. I’ve always found that comforting because no other part of life is like that.”  
“You think all the stress in my life will be solved if I do more math problems?” Kyoya narrowed his eyes at her as she drew a second circle linked to the first. Haruhi continued as if she hadn’t heard Kyoya’s sarcastic remark.   
“When my mother died, a lot of people told me that it was okay to be sad.” She coloured in one of the circles, still not looking up. “They said that, yet my sadness really seemed to worry them. They’d bring me presents or take me for ice cream. Anything to try and make me happy. I learned not to show that I was sad, because I didn’t want to make them sad.”  
Kyoya shifted uncomfortably. Of course, he knew that Haruhi’s mother died when she was four. Everyone did, it wasn’t a secret. She spoke quite openly about her mom, but always about her life, not her death.   
“There was one person though, a friend of my dad, who didn’t seem to care if I was sad or not.” She stopped drawing on her book, but she still didn’t look at Kyoya. Instead she turned to stare out the window. “Whenever my dad was too sad to get out of bed, which was often, he would come over with groceries and clean up the apartment. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t treat me like I was made of glass, or talk to me in that weird pitying tone. He just talked and went about doing housework as if it was normal. He would tell me stories while he stood at the sink washing dishes. Stories about his life, places he had been. He had traveled a lot. China, India, America, all over. He once brought me photos to look at from his trip to Canada.  
“Out of all the people who were around after my mother’s death, I liked him the best. He never asked anything of me. Not to be happy, not to talk, not to go on living my life pretending as if nothing had changed. He was just there, talking to me, doing things that needed to be done, so that I didn’t have to be alone. He taught me the importance of self-care. It’s something that really helped me. It still helps me.”  
“Self-care?” scoffed Kyoya. “Isn’t that the excuse middle aged women use to justify drinking red wine in the bathtub and eating too many chocolates?”  
“I think there are people who use it like that,” said Haruhi, pouring herself out another cup of tea. “And there’s nothing wrong with bubble baths or wine if those are things you enjoy, but I define self-care differently. To me, it isn’t something you do to escape from your life. It’s the things you do to make your life better so that you won’t need to escape from it. Self-care is hard work. It takes a lot of effort and willpower. For me, it’s going to the grocery store even when I don’t want to, so that I’ll have food to take for lunch the next day. It’s doing the dishes right after supper since I won’t want to deal with them later. For other people it might be cooking supper instead of eating unhealthy fast food, completing school assignments to keep your grade up, or flossing your teeth every day even though you really don’t want to. It’s taking care of your future self. Being kind to them by not leaving problems for them to deal with.”  
Kyoya watched her sip her tea as he thought about the concept of ‘future self’. “What happened to your dad’s friend? The one the told you stories and cleaned your house?” he asked.  
“He moved to Kobe a couple years ago to live with his boyfriend. He still sends me a Christmas card every year.” Haruhi toyed with the teapot on the table, tracing the line of the handle with her finger. “I’m sorry, Senpai, I didn’t mean to get into this sort of stuff, and please don’t think I’m trying to give you advice. I just thought we could do some math problems together. That’s all.”  
Kyoya sat for a long time gazing into his teacup while he contemplated what Haruhi had said. She had talked about a lot of different things in a short span and brought up several points he had never considered.   
“I can’t sleep,” he said, still staring into his teacup. “And my stomach hurts all the time so I can barely eat.”  
Haruhi digested Kyoya’s statement before replying. “Is it nightmares keeping you awake?”  
“Mostly.”  
“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Haruhi leaned over with the teapot and filled up his cup.   
“Because it’s stupid. I’m stupid. Freaking out over nothing. I’m turning into a crazy person and it’s shameful.”  
“Stop it,” snapped Haruhi. Kyoya looked up in surprise at her harsh tone. “Don’t be mean to yourself. You wouldn’t beat up on a sick child like that, so don’t do it to yourself. Now, tell me again why you haven’t told your family about your insomnia, and do it without beating yourself up.”  
They sat for a minute in silence, sipping their tea, before Kyoya started again. “Haruhi, do you know how many families make up the aristocracy in Japan?”  
“No. How many?”  
“About two hundred.”  
“That’s not very many.”  
“No. It’s not,” said Kyoya. “It’s a bit like living in a small village. Everyone knows everyone else. And everybody knows everyone’s business. Once one person knows something, the whole community knows. It’s impossible to keep a secret.”  
“You’re afraid that other people are going to find out that you’ve been having stomach aches?” Haruhi looked bemused. “Is that something to be concerned about?”  
Kyoya sighed and took off his glasses to rub his tired eyes. “Have you heard of the Nakamura family? They hold a large firm that deals in international shipping.” Haruhi shook her head.  
“Their youngest daughter was in the same class as my sister Fuyumi. Several years ago, Mrs. Nakamura had, what was politely called a ‘manic episode.’ Delusions, hallucinations, the works. It was a full-blown psychotic break and was apparently quite dramatic. It was talked about for some time afterwards. She was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. The family tried to keep it quiet, so naturally everyone knows about it. Do you know where Mrs. Nakamura is now?” Haruhi shook her head again.  
“At the family home. She never leaves that house. She hasn’t been seen in public for nearly five years. Fuyumi, being a friend of the daughter’s, was often at the home. She saw her once, sitting in the garden, staring into space, with a nurse supervising her. One presumes that in order to keep her from causing any more embarrassment to the family, they are keeping her heavily medicated and tucked away out of sight.”  
“What? That’s horrible!” cried Haruhi.  
“It’s quite common amongst the upper class. You often see it with elderly family members when their minds start to go.”  
Haruhi reached across the table and put her hand on Kyoya’s. “Your family would never do that to you. You wouldn’t let them. We wouldn’t let them.”  
Kyoya tried to think of something say. He started to open his mouth when Haruhi’s phone started buzzing on the floor next to her. She glanced over and saw it was a text message from the twins. She flipped it open and furrowed her brow as she read the message.   
“Is something wrong?” asked Kyoya.  
“It just says, ‘Show this to Kyoya,’ and then there’s a picture of some flowers.” She handed the phone to him. It was a closeup photo of one of the twins, impossible to tell which one, making a face beside a beautiful flower arrangement. It had been adjusted slightly, but it was definitely the one that he had made with them the other day. Another photo came through. He was shocked to see that it was a wide shot showing his arrangement placed in the center of the mansion’s main foyer, a prominent spot where it was sure to be seen by all the guests.   
A message popped up. “Hope you don’t mind, but we made a few small changes to your arrangement. It was 90% there already. Sometimes it only takes a small alteration for everything to fall into place. All it needed was a little outside perspective.”  
He felt light-headed and he sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t know what to think. He was confused, flattered, and for some reason, deeply pleased.   
“Are you okay?” asked Haruhi.  
Kyoya gave her a half smile and handed back her phone. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”  
Haruhi looked at the message. “You made an Ikebana arrangement with the twins? I didn’t know you knew how to do that. It’s lovely.”  
“Yeah… I…,” he didn’t know what to say. He felt the muscles in his shoulders relax. He hadn’t realized he had been so tense. The knot in his stomach seemed to untangle itself. He let out a sigh of relief. “Haruhi, thank you for inviting me over today. I know it’s getting late, but unless you have other things you need to do this evening, I think I’d like to do some more math problems with you. And maybe… we could have some of that soup you mentioned earlier?”  
“Yes, of course. I would love that.” Haruhi beamed at him with delight. Kyoya felt his heart flutter and he couldn’t help but break into a genuine smile, which, impossibly, made Haruhi’s face even brighter.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Kyoya tossed his school bag onto the couch as he walked into his bedroom. He flopped down beside the bag, put his feet up on the coffee table and stretched. It had been a long day, yet he was feeling more energized than he had all week. It was probably the soup he had at Haruhi’s. It was the first full meal he’d eaten in days, and his stomach had only mildly protested. He hadn’t known that leftover food could be saved and eaten again later. Commoners’ ingenuity and thrift was something to be marveled at.   
He picked up the television remote from the couch cushion beside him. Pointing it at the screen, he paused. Haruhi’s words from the that afternoon ran through his head. Self-care is what you do to make your life better, and to help your future self. Spending night after night staring at the TV was not helping him sleep. He needed to do something else if he was ever going to beat the nightmares that were keeping him awake. So far, only one thing had worked consistently.

He sighed as he looked across the room to where his running shoes were lying outside his open closet. It had been a long day and he was tired. The last thing he wanted to do was run, but he knew that if he didn’t it would be yet another night of bad late-night TV and existential dread. This is what Haruhi had been talking about when she said that self-care took effort and willpower. Tossing the TV remote aside, he pulled himself off the couch and went to his closet to change.

Outside, the springtime air was chilling as the sun sank lower in the sky. Kyoya shivered in his t-shirt and chaffed his arms as he walked down the long driveway to the front gate. By now his security team knew the drill and didn’t bother following him. Reaching the usual starting point, he checked his watch and started off at the slow, steady pace he had run with Mori. Soon he was breathing hard, but his muscles felt good as they stretched and worked. His body warmed and he started to sweat. Around him the setting sun was turning the world pink and gold. The only sounds were his breathing, the pounding of his feet, and wind rustling through the trees. The freshness of the air, the colours of the garden, the soft sounds; it all combined to fill him with an incredible tranquility. He wondered why he hadn’t taken up running ages ago.

He rounded the last corner on the final lap and gave himself an extra push to take him back to the gate. Crossing the invisible finish line, he checked his watch. 37:47. A vast improvement. He smiled. He had only taken four walking breaks and he was pleased with himself. Taking out his phone he texted the time to Mori while walking back to the house. He received a thumbs up in reply.

Entering the house, he went through the family study into the library. He needed a new book to read. One that would help put him to sleep. The fiction section of the family library wasn’t big, but it had several classic titles that might do. Kyoya ran his finger along the row of spines. The Tale of Genji, Great Expectations, The Pillow Book. Most of these did not stir his fancy, but he supposed that was the point. 

“Well, look who crawled out of his den. The recluse himself.” 

Kyoya turned to see his brother come into the room. “Hello, Akito,” he said flatly as he turned back to the bookshelf. 

“We didn’t see you at dinner. Again.”

“I ate at my friend Haruhi’s house.”

Akito perched himself on the arm of one of the reading chairs and crossed his arms. “Haruhi is that scholarship student that your group adopted, right?”

Kyoya gave a non-committal grunt in reply. 

“Anyway, I came in here to tell you that you need to call Fuyumi.”  
Surprised, Kyoya turned to look at Akito. “Fuyumi? Why?”  
Akito rolled his eyes. “Because apparently you never answer your phone. She’s left you half a dozen messages, but you never call her back. Now she’s calling me because she’s worried, and honestly, I have better things to do than be your answering service. Why haven’t you called her?”  
Ashamed, he turned back to stare at the books. “I forgot,” he lied.   
“Kyoya,” Akito’s voice was concerned. “Does Fuyumi have a reason to be worried?”  
“What do you mean?”   
“Fuyumi told me that you looked awful the last time she saw you. Are you sick? I know you stayed home on Tuesday, but you still look tired.”  
“I just finished a 5k run. Of course I look tired.”  
“Yeah, what is with this running thing all of a sudden?”  
Kyoya shrugged. “My senpai got me into it. It’s…uplifting.”  
Akito gave his brother a hard, examining look. “Kyoya, are you sure you’re okay?”  
Kyoya clenched his jaw and stared at the books on the shelf. “I’m fine. I’m….” A tiny voice in his head was whispering at him to tell his brother. He was almost a doctor, maybe he could help. But he knew that if he told Akito anything, he would go running straight to their father. Perhaps there was a way to get some advice discreetly. “I…have a friend… who has a problem.”   
Akito leaned forward. “Is it Suoh?”  
Kyoya looked over in surprise. “What? Tamaki? No.” He needed to obscure things further. He didn’t want his brother getting too close to the truth. “It’s actually a girl I know. At school.”  
Akito sat back. He had never heard his brother mention any girls before. “And what’s this girl’s problem?”  
Kyoya didn’t know how to start. He decided it would be best to start vague. “Something happened after school one day. Something bad. Now she’s worried all the time. Scared. She gets sick. She’s afraid to tell her family about it, because—”  
Kyoya was cut off by his brother jumping up from his perch on the chair. “Oh my god, Kyoya, you didn’t!”  
“What?” Bewildered, Kyoya took a step back as Akito rushed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.   
“Kyoya,” Akito brought his face close and looked his brother straight in the eyes. “Are you trying to tell me that you got a girl pregnant?”  
Kyoya was so shocked by the question that all he could do was stare in stunned confusion.   
“Didn’t you use protection? Kyoya, how could you be so careless? Father is going to have a fit when he finds out.” Akito started to shake him as he expressed his distress.  
Managing to find his voice, Kyoya pushed his brother off. “No! That’s not it. I didn’t!”  
Akito stepped back and put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m not angry, I’m just surprised. It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of your girlfriend. I’ll tell Father and—”  
“Akito, stop! Nobody is pregnant! I’ve never even…” Kyoya’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.  
“Ah, geez, I’m sorry, Kyoya.” Akito stepped up again and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just with what you said…I’m sorry for getting ahead of myself. This girl you talked about, is she your girlfriend?”  
Kyoya was inwardly cringing with humiliation and awkwardness. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
“Is that the problem? You want to help this girl because you like her?”  
Kyoya let out a frustrated groan and ran both his hand through his hair. It was impossible to explain anything when Akito kept jumping to conclusions without listening to what he was trying to tell him.   
To Akito’s credit, he seemed to realize that he wasn’t helping. “Maybe you should call Fuyumi about this. She might be better at dealing with girl problems.”  
Letting out a sigh, Kyoya nodded in agreement. “I will call her tomorrow.” Grabbing a random book from the shelf he left his brother standing awkwardly in the library and rushed up to his room before he could run into any more well-meaning family members. 

“Well? Did you show him the picture?”  
“Yeah, what did he say? Did he like it?”  
The twins sat on Hikaru’s bed with their phone on speaker between them. It was late and downstairs the party was winding down as guests filtered out to their waiting cars.   
“I showed it to him. He didn’t say anything about it, but he seemed pleased.” Haruhi, dressed in baggy sleepwear, sat cross legged on top of her futon. “When we first got here, he looked like death warmed over. I was afraid he was going to collapse coming up the stairs. But after he saw the pictures you sent of the flowers, he perked up a lot.”  
The brothers gave each other a high five then turned back to the phone. “What did you guys end up doing all afternoon?” asked Kaoru.  
“Not much,” she answered. “Just studied mostly, but we did talk quite a bit.”  
“Really? The Shadow King talked to you?” asked Hikaru. “Did he tell you what the hell his problem is?”  
“Not really. He admitted to not being able to sleep because of nightmares, which we kind of knew already, and that he hasn’t been eating because of stomach aches, which I didn’t know but I can’t say that I’m surprised.”  
“Yeah, but did he explain why he’s having the nightmares and stomach aches?” asked Kaoru.  
“No, because he’s got some crazy idea in his head about what his family will do if they find out. He told me a story about some lady named Nakamura.”  
“Oh, sure,” said Hikaru. “Mrs. Nakamura flipped out a couple of years ago. Went totally nuts-o.”  
“You know about that?” asked Haruhi.  
“Of course,” answer Kaoru. “Everybody knows about that.”  
“Yeah, well, he thinks that if his family finds out that he’s, well, you know… That they’re going to pump him full of sedatives and keep him locked up in the house, just like that Nakamura lady. I mean, that’s ridiculous, right? His family are doctors. They would never do something like that.” Haruhi waited to hear the twins reply of agreement, but instead there was silence. “Guys? Kyoya’s family wouldn’t do that, right?”  
“Ummm…well…actually…”   
“He may have a legitimate concern there.”  
Haruhi’s brow furrowed in a worried frown. “Are you joking? ‘Causes it’s not very funny!”  
“We’re not joking,” said Kaoru. “Although, I don’t think they’d lock him in the house. Probably, they’d send him away to a facility.”  
“A facility? Like an institution?” Haruhi couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  
“Sort of,” said Hikaru. “They call them Recovery Resorts. Most are for addiction treatment, but some of them specialize in mental illness and disorders. He’d likely end up at one of them. There’s a nice one on Ishigaki Island that is quite popular.”  
Haruhi was stunned. Was this how rich people dealt with problems? By sending them away and sweeping them under the rug, as it were? “But what if Kyoya doesn’t want to go?”  
“Have you ever known Kyoya to do anything that wasn’t of benefit to his family?” scoffed Hikaru. “At best he does things that are neutral – neither helpful nor harmful to his family. Like the Host Club.”  
“Yeah, he would never openly defy this family’s wishes,” added Kaoru. “If they want to send him away for treatment, then he’ll go.”  
“But…” Haruhi’s thoughts raced and she found herself clutching the duvet on her futon with white knuckles. “But what about us? We’re his friends. The people there, they won’t know him, they won’t understand what he’s like. How is he supposed to get better surrounded by strangers who won’t be able to see what he’s really like deep down?”  
“It’s true,” said Kaoru, “Beneath that cunning, shrewd shell is a daring and loyal person.”  
“Whatever,” said Hikaru “Inside that daring and loyal person is a cold and black heart.”  
“Yeah okay, but it’s sort of a shiny black,” replied Kaoru.   
Hikaru nodded. “Okay, sure, I’ll agree with that.”   
“Guys! This is serious!”   
“Haruhi,” said Hikaru. “Have you considered that maybe spending some time in a place with trained medical professionals is exactly what Kyoya needs?”  
“These are people who will know exactly how to help him,” added Kaoru. “They’d be able to give him what he needs to get better. We’re just a bunch of high school students. What can we really do for him?”  
“But…” Haruhi felt a pang of sadness settle in her chest. The twins were right, of course. Kyoya needed more help than they could give him. “But he shouldn’t have to go if he doesn’t want to.”  
“That’s between him and his family.”  
Haruhi hung her head. “It won’t be the same without him.”


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Kyoya walked into the breakfast room on Saturday morning feeling refreshed from a full night’s sleep. His father, reading the morning paper, was at the only person at the table. He flipped down the corner of his paper and cocked an eyebrow at his son as Kyoya sat down. Kyoya knew this was his father’s way of commenting on his absence from mealtimes during the past week. He ignored it and served himself some miso soup. His father snapped his paper back and turned the page.   
“Do you have any plans for the weekend, Kyoya? Can we expect to see you at dinner, perhaps?”  
Kyoya didn’t look up from his soup. His father was hidden behind the newspaper anyway. “I’m not sure what my weekend schedule is going to be. I’ll probably end up going out with Tamaki. I don’t think I can commit myself to dinner.”  
Folding up the newspaper with a sigh, his father stood up to leave. “Kyoya, I work hard, but I make a point to put aside work for a few hours each day to spend time with my family. It would be nice if you could put in the effort to do the same.”  
Kyoya shrank under his father’s gaze. “Yes, sir.”  
Satisfied, his father moved towards the door, but paused just before he left. “Oh, with you skipping out on family meal times, I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you that the date for the sentencing hearing has been set for Monday. You’re expected to read a ‘victim impact’ statement that our lawyer has done up.”  
The hearing. Kyoya hadn’t thought about it in days. His heart started thumping. “Can we not just submit the statement through our lawyer? Is it really necessary that I be there? I’d have to miss school and…”  
“Kyoya,” Yoshio’s tone was stern. “This hearing may seem like just an annoying inconvenience to you, but it is, in fact, extremely important. This attack was not just an offence against you, it was an offence against the entire Ootori family, and we need to show people who would try to harm us that we will deal with them harshly. In this case, we need to do everything we can to make sure that these criminals receive the severest sentence possible. For that, you need to make an in-person statement so that the judges feel sorry for you and not some crook with a sob story about how his mother didn’t love him. Do you understand?”  
He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. His head swam with dizziness and he had to clutch the edge of the table to keep from falling over.  
“Kyoya? Are you hearing me?” Yoshio snapped in annoyance at his son’s apparent lack of attention.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Good. Make sure you contact your teachers to get any work you will miss.” Folding his newspaper under his arm, Yoshio disappeared out the door.

Kyoya tried to breathe, but his chest was too tight, he couldn’t get the air in. Cutting through the horrifying feeling of descending doom was the thought that he didn’t want the serving staff to find him passed out on the breakfast room floor.   
He lurched to his feet, staggered out of the room and up the stairs to his room. Stumbling through the door, he fell to his knees and crawled over to the couch were his phone was lying on the cushion. Gasping for breath, he sat on the floor with his back leaning against the corner of the couch. He fumbled with his phone trying to pull up Tamaki’s number. His hands were shaking so bad that he could barely hold it. Finally, he managed to get the number dialed and heard the soft purring sound of the phone ringing. He clutched the phone to his face, desperate to hear Tamaki’s voice. The irrational idea that he was dying, and talking to Tamaki would save him, was taking over all of his conscious thought.   
“This is Suoh Tamaki, I can’t answer the phone right now, so please leave me message.”  
The phone fell from his hand. Kyoya squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. His lower lip trembled and his face contorted while he tried to hold in his anguish. He couldn’t do it. It was too much. Something in Kyoya snapped. “God damnit, Tamaki!” Tears streaming down his face, he staggered to his feet, grabbed his schoolbooks off the table and threw them across the room. Papers scattered everywhere. He was angry, he was miserable, he was tired and frustrated. Everything in his life was terrible. Nobody listened to him. Nobody understood him and what he was going through. Damn them all! He snarled as he ripped the pillows and cushions from the couch. Stumbling over to his dresser he began to pull out all the drawers and dump the contents on the floor. All the books on his shelves were thrown onto the floor. Everything in his closet was ripped from its hanger and tossed down behind him. He hated them. He hated everyone. He hated them all.  
With nothing left to throw and his shoulders shaking, Kyoya sank to the floor and curled up in ball, sobbing. He struggled to take in air, causing him to gasp and cough as he tried to stop crying. He didn’t want to live like this anymore. Things were supposed to get better with time, but now every day was worse than the last. He couldn’t take this. It just hurt too much.   
Kyoya lay unmoving on the floor. In his mind he felt like he was floating above himself, drifting up towards the ceiling while looking down at his body curled up on his side. He thought he looked peaceful, lying there. Kyoya opened his eyes. An uneasy feeling was welling up inside his chest. He sat up and looked around his room. Overlooking the fact that it was a mess, Kyoya couldn’t help but feel like his room looked different and changed. Something was wrong, very wrong. He needed to get out, he couldn’t stay here. He picked up one of his running shoes. He stared at it for a moment, then began to change into his running clothes.   
Dressed in shorts, t-shirt, and a hachimaki tied around his forehead, he left the chaos of the bedroom. The hallways and front vestibule of the house were quiet and empty. No one saw him slip out the door and make his way outside towards the gates of the estate. The sky was grey and overcast, with the clear threat of rain in the wind. The front gate was open when he got there, a car having just left. Without the slightest hesitation, he stepped through the opening as the gate began to swing closed and started jogging down the street. 

Tamaki emerged from the steamy bathroom riffling his wet hair with a towel. Clad in just his boxers, he padded over to his closet. A blinking light on his end table caught his attention. Hanging the towel around his shoulders, he snatched up his phone and sat down on his bed. His heart first leapt then dropped like a stone when he saw that he had missed a call from Kyoya. It would figure that the one time his friend calls he would be in the shower. He dialed his voicemail to hear the message but found that it was just a long recording of silence. Confused, he deleted the message and dialed Kyoya’s number. It went to voicemail.   
“Uh…It’s me. Calling you back. Sorry I missed your call. I was in the shower. But I’m out now. So, uh, call me back. I’m around all day. Okay. Bye.”  
Tamaki sat staring at this phone, trying to will Kyoya into calling him back right away. It didn’t work, and after a few minutes, he decided to get dressed and then try calling again. 

Mori stood in the front vestibule of the Ootori mansion. Dressed for a workout, he had come by to see if Kyoya wanted to squeeze in a run before the forecasted rain started. Preferring to stand, he had declined to wait in the study while a staff member went to find Kyoya.  
“Morinozuka-san? Hello, how are you?” Mori turned to see Akito coming down the main staircase. He gave a nod in greeting. “Did you come to go running with Kyoya-kun?”   
“Yeah.”  
“That’s great. He would never say anything, but I think he’s really enjoying this running thing you’ve been doing together. But be careful with him, okay? I think he’s still getting over his illness from last week.”  
“Okay.”  
Akito smiled and disappeared down the hallway. Just as he left, the servant re-appeared.  
“My apologies, Morinozuka-san,” said the staff member, bowing. “I checked with the Master and he says that Master Kyoya had been planning to go out with Suoh-san. It seems that he has already left.”  
“Okay. Thank you.” Mori turned and went back to his car. 

Tamaki bounced and fidgeted in his seat as the car rolled up the long driveway of the Ootori estate. He had spent the morning trying to wait patiently for Kyoya to call him back. Several times he had cracked and called, but it went to voicemail each time. After last Thursday, when Kyoya skipped out on host club time, Tamaki had resolved to give his friend space. To let him know that he was available, but to wait until he was ready to come to him on his own. It was proving to be much harder than Tamaki had anticipated. Sitting around waiting was excruciating, he could hardly stand it. Finally, after waiting all morning and not being able to eat lunch due to sheer worry, he decided to bite the bullet and head over to Kyoya’s house.   
The car came to a stop and Tamaki scrambled out. Bounding up the front steps to avoid the fat rain drops that had begun to fall, he almost collided with Akito as he came out the front door.   
“Whoa, hey Suoh-san. What’s the hurry?”  
Tamaki bowed in apology. “I’m very sorry, Akito-sama. I just came by to see Kyoya.”  
“Oh, I’m afraid he’s not here.”  
“He’s not?”   
“Morinozuka-san picked him up this morning to go running. They’re still not back yet.”  
Tamaki knew that Mori had been taking Kyoya running, but he found it odd that they would be gone all morning. Perhaps they had gone out somewhere afterwards, or maybe they had stopped somewhere to wait out the rain. “Was Honey-senpai with them?”  
“I don’t think so. At least, I didn’t see him,” answered Akito. “I’m sorry Suoh-san, but I have to be going. When you see Kyoya, can you please remind him to call his sister today?”  
“Uh, sure.” Tamaki watched Akito climb into his waiting car and drive off before heading back to his own car. Slumped in the back seat, he pulled out his phone and dialed Mori’s number.  
“Hi.”   
“Mori-senpai, is Kyoya there with you?”  
“No.”  
“No?” Tamaki sat up in surprise. “I just talked to his brother, he said you two went running.”  
“I went to his house. He wasn’t there. They said he was with you.”  
“With me? I haven’t seen him. Why would they say he’s with me?”  
“…..”  
Tamaki’s mind raced. “What time were you at his house this morning?”  
“About 10.”  
Tamaki checked his watch. It was almost two. “That means he’s been missing for at least four hours, maybe longer. Phone Honey and see if he’s heard from Kyoya. I’ll call the twins.”  
“Okay.”  
Tamaki hung up with Mori and dialed the twins.   
“Tono! What’s up?”  
“Hikaru?”  
“Actually, it’s Kaoru.”  
“Right, sorry. Have you seen or heard from Kyoya today?”  
Kaoru scoffed. “The Shadow King? Yeah, right. Why?”  
“I think…” Tamaki shifted nervously in his seat. “I think he might be missing.”  
“Missing?” Kaoru’s voice became serious. “What do you mean he’s missing?”  
Tamaki did his best to explain what had happen to him and Mori.  
“Well? What are we going to do?” asked Kaoru.  
Tamaki tried to think. This sort of thing was usually handled by Kyoya. He was so good at organizing and coordinating things. He tried to think like Kyoya would.  
“You and Hikaru go to the school and look around. Maybe he went there. I’m going to stop by my house. Maybe we just crossed paths and he’s there waiting for me.”  
“Right. You can count on us. We’ll keep you posted.”  
Next Tamaki called Haruhi to see she had any contact with Kyoya, but it just went to voicemail. She had a habit of ignoring calls and texts from club members on the weekends.   
Putting his phone back in his pocket, he slouched back down in the seat and mentally kicked himself for missing Kyoya’s call that morning. Something was wrong. He just knew it.

Tamaki paused in front of the school music room doors. His stomach fluttered in anticipation. He sent up a silent prayer that when he opened the door, Kyoya would be inside, happy and healthy, ready to give him a hard time about being dramatic over a simple mix up. He pushed the heavy door and stepped inside.

Honey, Mori, and the twins were all sitting at a table and Tamaki could see by their faces that Kyoya had not been found. Disappointment sliced through Tamaki’s heart as he sat down at the table with his friends. For a moment no one said anything. Finally, Hikaru cleared his throat.

“We searched the whole school,” he said to Tamaki.

“We checked the all the libraries, the gardens, and the classrooms,” added Kaoru.

“Takashi and I looked in the gyms, all the corridors, even the infirmary,” said Honey. Tamaki hadn’t told the cousins that he and the twins were going to search the school, but he wasn’t surprised to find that they had shown up. The school was the only logical place to look for Kyoya. He didn’t have any other hangouts or places that he regularly went. 

Dejected, Tamaki leaned forward with his elbows on the table, holding his face in his hands. This was all because he missed Kyoya’s phone call. Kyoya was his best friend and he had let him down. Now he was letting him down again by not finding him. He could be anywhere. Tokyo was a huge city and Kyoya was out there, lost in it. Tamaki would never forgive himself if something happened to him. He felt a hand gently squeeze his shoulder.

“Tama-chan, maybe we should start calling hospitals and the police,” said Honey. He rubbed Tamaki’s arm in sympathy. “And we need to call Kyo-chan’s family.”

Tamaki lifted his head and looked at the small, blond boy. “Hospitals?” The idea had not occurred to him and now he was struck with visions of the dark-haired boy, injured and sick, lying alone and unidentified in a hospital bed.

Kaoru rubbed at an invisible mark on the tabletop. “You don’t think that he would do something stupid, do you? Like, I don’t know… hurt himself, or something?”

Tamaki stood up so fast that he knocked over his chair. He groaned in anguish and grabbed his hair. In his mind’s eye he could see Kyoya standing on a tall bridge ready to jump. Tamaki felt like he was going to be sick. “Kyoya!” he cried and crumpled into a wretched pile on the floor. The other boys crowded around him trying to console him with gentle words, but Tamaki couldn’t listen to them. Worry and heartache left him unable to focus on what they were saying.

Slowly, he became aware of a new sound. A metallic sounding song was playing. Tamaki stopped his keening and cocked his head to listen. His eyes widened when he realised it was his phone. He scrambled to his feet and started digging in his pockets. Pulling it out, he juggled it clumsily before he was able to answer it.

“Kyoya?!”

“No, it’s me,” said Haruhi.

“Haruhi! I tried to call you earlier. Kyoya is missing!”

“I know. I just-”

Too frantic to listen, Tamaki cut her off “No one has seen or heard from him all day. He’s not at home and he’s not at school. I think something might have happened. We’re going to have to call the police and file a missing person’s report. Then we’ll start organizing a search party. We’ll have to check all the bridges and tall buildings in Tokyo and—“

“He’s here.”

“What?” Tamaki’s brain pulled up short as if he had suddenly hit the end of a very long leash. It took him a moment to process what Haruhi had just said.

“He’s here. At my house.”

A flood of relief washed over Tamaki and made him so lightheaded that he had to sit down.

“What is it? Did she find him?” said the twins. Tamaki nodded.

“Is he okay?” asked Tamaki. “Let me talk to him.”

“He’s….” He could hear Haruhi’s hesitation and his feeling of dread returned.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

“Senpai…I think you’d better come,” she answered. “Please hurry.”


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

With his heart in his throat, Tamaki bounded up the apartment steps two at a time. The other Host Club members were right on his heels, and the twins nearly crashed into his back when he stopped short in front of Haruhi’s door. The door swung open the moment Tamaki knocked.

Haruhi was surprised by the crowd on her doorstep. She had only been expecting Tamaki, but she moved aside to let them all in.

“Is he okay? Is he hurt?” Tamaki wasn’t sure why but he whispered his questions to Haruhi. The group quietly shuffled around in the tiny kitchen.

“He’s not hurt, I don’t think,” answered Haruhi. “But’s he’s… he’s not…” She gestured to the living room indicating that Tamaki should see for himself.

Tamaki turned and paused in the doorway. Kyoya was there, sitting on the tatami mats. He had a towel draped over his shoulders, a hachimaki tied around his forehead, and an untouched cup of tea on the table in front of him. His glasses were lying on the table next to the tea. His t-shirt and shorts were wet and spattered with mud. 

“Kyoya?”

He didn’t look up. Instead, he stared at the table in front of him. Tamaki stepped into the room, allowing the others to crowd into the doorway to look. Picking his way around the table, he knelt down next to Kyoya. Even though Tamaki knew Kyoya wouldn’t like it, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling him into a hug. Wrapping his arms around his friend’s shoulders, he laid his cheek against the side of Kyoya’s head. He was cold to the touch and his messy wet hair smelled of sweat and dirt. Tamaki expected Kyoya to push him off, as that was his usual response to affection, but he didn’t. Nor did he hug back. He sat passively as Tamaki held him.

“Kyoya?” Tamaki released him from the hug but held onto his shoulder. “What happened to you? Where have you been? I was so worried about you.” Kyoya didn’t answer. He just stayed staring at the teacup on the table. “Kyoya?” Tamaki touched his friend’s cheek and turned his head to face him. Kyoya’s eyes were focused, but if he realized that it was Tamaki beside him, he didn’t seem to care.

Tamaki turned to look up at Haruhi standing in the doorway with the others. “What’s wrong with him? Where did you find him?”

Haruhi shrugged. “I was walking home from the market when I saw him crossing the road. He wasn’t watching where he was going and he almost got hit by a car.” Haruhi moved into the room and sat down on the other side of Kyoya. “I caught up to him, but he just kept walking as if I wasn’t there. It took some convincing to get him to come back home with me. I had to lead him by the hand all the way. Physically, he seems fine, but he hasn’t said a single word since I found him.”

“We need to call an ambulance!” Tamaki whipped out his phone, but Haruhi reached across and grabbed it. 

“Don’t be stupid. He doesn’t need an ambulance.”

“You’re right,” Tamaki stood up and began tugging on Kyoya’s arm, trying to get him to stand up. “It’ll be faster if I just take him in the car. Where is the nearest hospital?”

“Leave him alone.” Haruhi slapped Tamaki’s hands to get him to let go of Kyoya. “Calm down and sit. He doesn’t need to go to the hospital. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

Tamaki crouched back down. “What do you mean there’s nothing wrong with him?” He hissed. “Look at him. He’s completely out of it. He needs to see a doctor.”

“But think about what will happen if we take him to the hospital now,” Haruhi reached across Kyoya to grab Tamaki’s arm. Her large eyes pleaded with him. “They’ll take him away and lock him up. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not. But Haruhi, he’s lost his mind. He doesn’t even know that I’m here talking to him.”

“Of course he knows you’re here,” said Haruhi. “Do you think he’d let anybody else come and glomp onto him like you just did? I think he’s just ignoring you.”

“Ignoring me?” Tamaki looked closer at Kyoya’s passive face. “Why?”

“Maybe,” Haruhi hesitated for a moment. “Maybe, because he’s sad.”

At Haruhi’s words the others moved in from the doorway and sat down around the table.

“I think you’ve got it wrong, Haruhi,” said Hikaru. “Senpai is anxious, not depressed.”

Haruhi ignored Hikaru’s patronizing tone. “Anxiety and depression are just different sides of the same coin.”

“But what makes you think he’s feeling sad?” asked Honey.

Haruhi crossed arms and sighed. “After my Mom died, my Dad would sometime get so sad that he wouldn’t speak, or eat, or even get out of bed, for days at a time. He would just get too deep inside his own head to pay attention to things around him.”

“What did you do?” asked Kaoru.

She shrugged. “I figured out that if I lay down beside him long enough, he would eventually put his arm around me and pull me into him. After a while, he’d get up and start doing things again. Maybe if we wait, Kyoya will come around, and then we can talk to him about seeing a doctor.”

“So, you think he’ll just come out of this on his own?” asked Tamaki.

Haruhi shrugged again. “I think we should at least give him a chance before we start talking about hospitals and calling his family.”

“You don’t think we should call his family?” asked Honey, surprised.

“He told me yesterday that he’s afraid of how his family will react to finding out about his panic attacks. I feel like calling them after he specifically said that he doesn’t want to tell them would be a betrayal of trust. I can’t do that to him, not after he placed his trust in me by coming here.”

“You believe he came here on purpose?” asked Kaoru.

Haruhi looked at him as if he were stupid. “Of course he came here on purpose. In a city the size of Tokyo, the chance of him randomly ending up on my doorstep is impossible. He came because he knew that no one would look for him here. So, I want to respect his wishes and give him the time he needs. If he wants to sit and be sad, then so be it.”

“But for how long?” asked Hikaru. “We can’t keep covering for him. Especially if he’s going to start running away like this. What if something had happened to him on his way here? You said yourself that you watched him almost get hit by a car. If we don’t tell anyone and this happens again, we’re responsible if he gets hurt. Maybe if he were actually trying to get better, you know, putting in some real effort to deal with his issues, I’d feel different, but he’s not.”

“Yes, he is.” The group turned to look at Mori. He pulled out his phone and showed them the text message he received from Kyoya the night before.

“37:47? What does that mean?” asked Tamaki.

“He went running last night. It’s the time he set,” answered Mori putting his phone away.

“So? What does that prove?” asked Hikaru.

“That he’s putting in effort. He’s trying to get better,” said Mori.

Hikaru crossed his arms and sighed. “Fine. We give him time to be sad, or whatever, but there needs to be a deadline. We pick a time and if he doesn’t snap out of by then, we start making phone calls.”

“We can’t just pick a random time. It doesn’t work like that,” argued Haruhi.

“Hika-chan is right,” said Honey. “I want to call now, but out of respect for Kyo-chan, I’m willing to wait a little while. We need to set a time limit, to protect everyone.”

“Let’s give him until tomorrow morning,” said Tamaki. He rubbed Kyoya’s back in slow circles. It hurt to see his friend like this. Kyoya was always so sharp, with a quiet energy just below the surface. Like a snake ready to strike. Now he looked tired and dull. It was hard to think that the boy sitting next to him was the same person who had been running the Host Club with an invisible, but firm, hand a week ago. “Maybe he just needs to sleep.” The group exchanged glances and nodded in silent agreement.

Honey stood up and stretched. “I’m starving. What’s for supper?”

Startled, Haruhi looked up at him. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Let’s order in,” said the twins, pulling out their phones. “What do you guys say to Pho?”

“Now wait just a minute,” said Haruhi.

“What?” asked the twins. “Would you rather East Indian?”

“No! Who invited you to stay for dinner?” snarled Haruhi. “You guys can’t stay here. There isn’t room for everyone!”

“But we have to stay,” said Honey coming over and taking her hand. He looked at her with his childlike eyes. “Kyo-chan is our friend and he needs us to take care of him. We can’t leave him.”

“But…” Haruhi looked to Mori for help but could see the determination in his face. Defeated, she slumped forward onto the table. “Can we order Mexican?”

“Tacos!” cheered the twins.

Ranka climbed the dimly lit stairs to his apartment. It had been a long shift at the okama bar and his new pumps made his feet ache. He was looking forward to crawling into his futon and sleeping until noon. With a tired sigh, he dug his keys out of his purse. Pushing open the door, he stumbled over something as he stepped in. Confused, he flicked on the kitchen light. Mounds of shoes were piled inside the door. He counted six pairs that he didn’t recognize. He groaned inwardly. Stepping over the shoe pile, he moved to the living room and slid open the shoji. Light from the kitchen spilled into the dark room and fell on the bodies of seven teenagers sprawled over his living room floor.   
He stood in the doorway staring at the scene. The table had been moved into the closet and the twin brothers were snuggled up together watching a late-night talk show with the sound turned down on the apartment’s tiny TV. At his feet, Mori, wearing headphones and seemingly asleep, was sitting up against the wall with his long legs stretched out in front of him. His small cousin was lying asleep with his head in his lap. The light spilling in from the kitchen caused the blond boy to grunt and turn over. In the far corner, Tamaki and Kyoya were curled up together like a pair of spoons. Haruhi was in the middle of the room stretched out on her stomach reading a book with a flashlight. 

Haruhi and the twins turned and looked up at her father standing in the doorway. Ranka’s eyes met his daughter’s and for a moment they just stared at each other.

“Kyoya-senpai had a rough day,” she whispered pointing to the corner where he lay with Tamaki’s arms around him. Ranka peered through the shadows at the pair. A sliver of light from the doorway fell across Kyoya’s face. His dark hair fell forward covering his eyes, but Ranka felt that even in the dim light he looked pale and drawn. That boy is too skinny, thought Ranka, his maternal instincts rising. His mother needs to feed him more. Something shifted at his feet and Ranka looked down to see Mori staring up at him. The tall boy nodded as the two made eye contact.

“Dad, I can-” Ranka held up his hand to stop his daughter from speaking. He was tired. He did not have the energy to deal with this situation.

“I’m going to stay at Madame’s. Please don’t make a mess.” With a sigh he closed the shoji again, turned, and left the apartment.

He dreamed that he was walking down a busy street in the rain. A sea of surreal umbrellas flowed past him. Cars on the street raced by him in a blur and a swoosh. Muddy puddle water splashed over him in their wake, but he barely noticed. The dream looked vaguely familiar, but he wasn’t really thinking about it. He wasn’t really thinking about anything. Guided by instinct through the ethereal streets, he moved with purpose through heaving crowds of downtown Tokyo. He forgot where he was trying to go but he felt driven to get there all the same. In sudden flashes, he’d remember his goal, but the diaphanous thought would soon slip away, and he would continue his aimless trek. He was tired. So very tired. 

Awareness crept over Kyoya so slowly that he wasn’t sure when he slipped from dreams to reality. He could hear someone crying and another person was speaking softly to comfort them, but he couldn’t understand what was being said. As he floated up from sleep, he noticed that someone was holding him and stroking his hair. He realized that the person crying was him and that Tamaki was whispering to him in French.

“Au dodo, mon amie. On est bien, la. Tu n’es pas tout seul. Je suis de tout cœur avec toi.” 

He opened his eyes. It was dark and he couldn’t tell where he was. Not at home certainly. He breathed in the homey scent of tatami mats and listened to sounds of gentle snoring. His began to make out the shapes of other people, but without his glasses he couldn’t tell who they were. The thought occurred to him that he should be scared, but he felt safe with Tamaki’s arm around him. He reached up to touch Tamaki’s arm at his chest. At the touch Tamaki stopped petting Kyoya’s hair and gave him an affectionate squeeze. 

“Coucou, mon amie.”

They sat up together and Kyoya looked around the room as best he could with his blurred vision. He recognized Haruhi’s living room and the other sleeping people as his Host Club friends. He wiped away the wetness from his cheeks with the back of his hand and turned to Tamaki. “What’s going on? How did I get here?”

Tamaki didn’t answer right away. Instead he sat in front of Kyoya looking him over. He put his hands on his shoulders and squeezed as if to convince himself that Kyoya was really there, then reached down to grasp both of Kyoya’s hands. “You don’t remember coming here? What was the last thing you do remember?”

Kyoya looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing his running clothes. It sparked a memory. “I went running. I remember I set a good time. I sent it to Mori-senpai.”

“That was Friday evening. What happened after that?”

Kyoya cast about in his mind but couldn’t come up with anything solid. “What time is it now?” he asked.

“It’s very early on Sunday morning.” Kyoya was startled by Tamaki’s answer. He was missing an entire day. “You walked here, to Haruhi’s, all the way from your house in the rain. Do you remember that?”

Kyoya closed his eyes. Vague images began to form in his mind. “I think so. Maybe. I’m not sure. It felt like being in a dream. It didn’t seem real.”

“No one knew where you were and we couldn’t find you.” Tamaki squeezed his friend’s hands. “We were so worried. I was scared something awful had happened to you. I’m so sorry, Kyoya. I’m sorry I let you down.”

“What? What do you mean?” Kyoya squinted trying to bring Tamaki’s face into focus. 

“You called me Saturday morning, but I missed it. You needed me, but I wasn’t there and you almost got lost.” Tamaki’s voice cracked. 

Pieces of memories were flooding back to Kyoya. The fit of rage he had in his room, the desperate call to Tamaki, and his father telling him about the hearing for his attackers. He felt his chest tighten. He let go of Tamaki’s hands and wrapped his arms around himself. 

“Kyoya? Are you all right?” 

“Tamaki,” Kyoya took a deep breath. “I thought I could handle this on my own. You may not have noticed, because I’ve been trying to hold it together, but I’ve been struggling lately. I’m not okay.” Kyoya looked when he heard Tamaki snort with laughter. “You think that’s funny, asshole?” he hissed.

“No, no. It’s not that,” chuckled Tamaki as he reached for Kyoya’s hand. “Kyoya, my dearest friend, I knew you weren’t okay the moment you walked into the classroom the morning after the attack. Walking with your shoulders hunched, not looking at anyone. You looked so frightened and vulnerable. I had never seen you like that before. Even if I hadn’t known then, I think the nightmare at the sleepover and your panic attack in the hallway might have given me a clue. I don’t think you’ve been holding it together as well as you think you have.”

“You knew? You knew all along?” 

“Of course. Everyone knew.” Tamaki gestured around the room. “We were trying so hard to help and support you. It didn’t always work, and for that we’re sorry.”

Kyoya didn’t know what to say. He was overwhelmed with a flood of emotions. He was so grateful for his friends, ashamed that he had failed to hide his problem, relieved that he didn’t have to try and hide it anymore, but mostly, he felt loved. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he choked on a sob. 

“Oh, Kyoya.” Tamaki pulled him into a hug and held tight while Kyoya finally let out his feelings. 

“I am so scared, Tamaki. I’m scared all the time,” he cried into his friend’s shoulder. 

“I know you are.”

“I don’t even know what I’m frightened of. It doesn’t make any sense. I thought it would go away, but it just keeps getting worse. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t be around people. I don’t want to go to the hearing. I don’t want to see them. I can’t stand to be in a room with them. I can’t do it. I can’t.”

Tamaki held him tight and rocked, trying to soothe his friend while he cried. It was hard to understand what Kyoya was saying and Tamaki had lost the thread. “What can’t you do? Tell me, I’ll help you.”

“You can’t,” sobbed Kyoya. “You can’t.”

“I can try. Tell me. Please tell me, Kyoya.”

Kyoya pulled back to wipe his eyes. “The men. The men who tried to…. I can’t face them.”

“Face them? You mean in court on Monday?”

Kyoya looked up. “How do you know about that?”

Tamaki couldn’t help but chuckle at Kyoya’s surprise. “I got a notice. They’re being charged for assaulting me too, you know.”

Kyoya groaned and slumped forward with his head in his hands. “Of course. I am a terrible friend.”

“Bad friend? What are you talking about?”

“You were there. You got hit. They split your cheek open. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems that I didn’t think about you at all. I’m so selfish.”

Tamaki leaned over and pulled Kyoya’s hands from his face. “Don’t be absurd. Of course you thought of me. In fact, you thought of me first. The instant they pulled you out of that car you started asking for me. I saw you. You were frantic. Then you hugged me so tight that I could hardly breathe. I’ll remember that moment for as long as I live, so you’re not going to convince me that you’re selfish and that you weren’t worried about me.”

Kyoya looked into the smiling face of his best friend and couldn’t help but feel better. This boy, he thought, has the most amazing heart. What did I do to deserve such a friend?

“As for the hearing,” continued Tamaki. “You don’t need to worry about that because I’ll be there too. Nothing bad will happen as long as I’m there with you. I promise.”

Kyoya nodded his head. He could do it if Tamaki was with him. He could do anything as long as he had Tamaki. 

“But Kyoya,” Tamaki’s voice turned serious. “There’s more to this than just the hearing. This anxiety you have, it needs to be dealt with properly. I’ll help you, but that isn’t going to be enough. You need to see a professional.”

“I…” Kyoya shifted on the floor and looked out the window that was filling with the watery light of pre-dawn. “I don’t want to be sent away or drugged so that I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

“You need to talk to your father. He knows about these things. Tell him what you need and he’ll help find a treatment that works for you.”

“My father,” Kyoya scoffed. “He doesn’t listen to me. I’m supposed to listen to him. I don’t know how I could ever tell him about any of this. I don’t know if I can even tell them.” Kyoya gestured towards their friends laying around the room. 

Tamaki laughed again. “Oh Kyoya, you already have. Look.” 

Confused, Kyoya squinted at his friends, but he couldn’t bring them into focus. He saw motion as Mori reached to the shelf above his head and then stretched across to hand Kyoya his glasses. He slipped them on his face and the world became clear. Mori, Honey, Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru were all awake and listening to him. 

At first, he was mortified. He had just spilled his soul to Tamaki, but it turned out he had done it in front of everyone without even knowing. He felt naked. Then he saw Haruhi smile at him as she sat up. Honey too. The twins were grinning at him in their coy way. Even Mori looked pleased. Tamaki’s words came back to him. They had all been trying to help him all along. His horror melted away and he returned a shy smile of his own. 

Before anyone had a chance to say anything, there was a sharp knock on the door. Everyone jumped at the unexpected sound. It wasn’t even dawn yet, much too early for a visitor. Haruhi climbed to her feet. Mori got up too, and protectively followed her to the door. She opened the door a crack. Three men in dark suits were standing on the landing. Haruhi’s heart skipped a beat before she recognized Kyoya’s personal security team.

“Good morning, Fujioka-san. We’re here to take Master Kyoya home.”


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Ootori Yoshio sat behind the oak desk in his home office. Fingers tented below his chin, he stared at his youngest son. In his dirty t-shirt and shorts, Kyoya stood shamefaced in front of his father, unable to meet his eyes. His hair was unkept and his cloths were spattered with mud. Arms at his sides, a rumpled hachimaki dangled from his fingers. He looked like a dog left out in the rain overnight.   
The car ride back to the Ootori mansion had been tense. Not one of Kyoya’s security team spoke a word to him. He hadn’t thought it possible, but now, standing in front of his father in his office, the strain had actually increased. This silent treatment was pulling Kyoya’s nerves so taunt he felt like he might snap. He wished his father would hurry up and yell at him. Instead he just stared with smoldering eyes while leaning back in his large leather chair. Kyoya felt his father’s stare as a weight crushing him into the floor.  
Finally, his father spoke. His voice was calm and icy. “Come here.” Kyoya stepped up to the desk. “Hold out your arms, palms up.” Kyoya did as instructed. Yoshio leaned forward and took Kyoya’s wrists, inspecting his forearms. The insinuation made Kyoya burn with shame. His father reached up to Kyoya’s chin and tiled his head up so he could see his eyes. He took a few deep breaths through his nose searching for the tell-tale odour of alcohol. Satisfied that his son was not high or intoxicated, he let go and leaned back in his chair again.  
“So? Would you care to explain to me why you left the property without telling anyone, without your security team, without so much as your GOD DAMN PHONE!”  
Yoshio stood up and slammed his hands down on his desk. Kyoya flinched. Now that the yelling had started, he found that he actually preferred the silence.   
“My god, Kyoya! You were nearly kidnapped less than two weeks ago, and you think it’s all right to just disappear out the gate by yourself? What made you think you could do that? Anything could have happened to you out there.  
“We didn’t even know that you were missing until you didn’t show up for dinner. Again. And imagine my shock when the housekeeper came to me to complain on behalf of the maid about the state of your room. We have staff, Kyoya, not slaves, and they are deserving of your respect. You cannot throw your things around like a child and expect them to put everything back together. Do you understand?”  
“Yes,” answered Kyoya.  
“‘Yes’ what?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Do you know what these are?” Yoshio picked up three pages off his desk and waved them at Kyoya. Kyoya shook his head. “These are the resignations of your security staff for having failed in their duty to adequately protect you.” Kyoya’s eyes widened in surprise. He was fond of Tachibana, Aijima, and Hotta. He didn’t want them to lose their jobs. “Well? What do you think? Should I accept them?” Yoshio’s voice was so sharp Kyoya felt like it was leaving cuts in his skin.  
“No, sir. Please don’t.”  
Disgusted, Yoshio threw the letters back down on the desk. “We had the entire Black Onion Squad out searching for you. Do you have any idea the kind of manpower and resources it takes to search a city the size of Tokyo? How long it takes to track down and analyse security footage to try and trace your route? Do you?”  
“I’m sorry I caused everyone such inconvenience.” Kyoya was sincere. He hadn’t meant to make trouble for anyone. Now it seemed like he was causing problems for everyone he knew.  
“Inconvenience? Inconvenience! Oh, Kyoya,” Taking a deep breath, Yoshio came around the desk, put his hands on either side of Kyoya’s face and brought his face in close. “We were scared to death. Me, your mother, the staff, everyone. You are my son, my youngest son. It is my job, my sacred duty, to protect you and I have nearly failed twice now in as many weeks. This is so much more than an inconvenience. Someday you will have children of your own and then maybe you will understand.” Yoshio let go of his son and straightened.   
“Here is what is going to happen. You’re going to apologise to your mother for causing her such unnecessary grief. Once we heard you were found she took a sedative and is now resting, so you’ll have to wait until later. It should give you time to compose a proper expression of regret.” Kyoya’s stomach kicked him at the mention of sedatives and he had to take a deep breath. “Next, you’re going to apologise to your security team for your blatant disregard for the responsibility they have to keep you safe. Then, you’re going to go to the housekeeper and make an apology to her maid staff for the disrespect you showed them by creating that outrageous mess in your room. I have instructed them to leave your room as is. You are responsible for cleaning it up. Maybe then you’ll have some appreciation of the work they do for you. Lastly, you are NEVER to do anything like this again. In fact, the next time you put even a tip of a toe out of line, I swear as your father, it will be the last time. Is that clear?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Yoshio looked at his son standing dejected in front of him and sighed. Out of all of his children, he found Kyoya the most difficult to read. At first glance he seemed to be a perfectly obedient and dutiful son, but he had a subtle defiant streak. He was cunning and could make it seem like he was following the wishes of his family and teachers all the while doing exactly as he pleased. Far from discouraging this, Yoshio felt like this skill would be an asset to Kyoya in his future in business. But lately Yoshio was at a lost to explain his son’s behaviour. His conspicuous absence from mealtimes, secluding himself in his room, his pale and strained appearance. He had tried to give his son space, to allow him to work through things on his own, since that was what he normally what he wanted, but after this incident it was apparent that he, Yoshio, would need to step in. He walked back around this desk and sat down. “Kyoya, I think it’s time we talk about what is going on.”  
“Sir?”  
“Oh, don’t play dumb. You didn’t disappear and run off to your friend’s house because you just ‘forgot’ to tell anyone. I want to know why this happened. I want to know what is causing you to act like this. Akito seems to think it has something to do with a girl, is that right?”  
“What? No!” Kyoya cringed remembering his brother freaking out in the library. “Akito misunderstood. There’s no girl.”  
Yoshio nodded. He hadn’t expected it to be something so mundane. He waited for Kyoya to continue, but nothing more was forthcoming. “And? I’m waiting for your explanation.”  
Kyoya looked at the floor and shifted from one foot to the other. He twisted the hachimaki in his hands to hide their trembling. This was it. This was when it would all come out and his father would decide his fate. Sedated, like his mother was this very moment, or shipped off somewhere out of sight. Kyoya tried to push these thoughts away. He needed to trust his family and have faith that they would do what was best for him. Confessing had been difficult to do with Tamaki, but here, standing in front of his father, it was impossible. Maybe he could pass this off as something minor as he had been doing. He could still fix everything without his family knowing. After all, he had his friends to help him now. But then, hadn’t they been helping him all along? He opened his mouth to speak. “I--”  
A sharp knock on the office door cut him off. His father’s assistant popped his head through the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Ootori-sama, but the Black Onion Squad Chief is here to discuss the search operation. Would you like me to tell him to wait?”  
Yoshio eyed his son who looked to be on the edge of vomiting. Maybe it would best to give him a break. They could finish talking about this once he was cleaned up and rested. “Show the Chief in, please,” he said to his assistant who disappeared back out the door. He turned back to Kyoya. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”  
Kyoya nodded, heading towards the door, feeling equally relieved and dismayed by the delay.  
“And Kyoya,” Kyoya paused and turned back to his father, “You WILL be at dinner tonight, is that understood?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Kyoya hurried out the door before his father could say anything else. Reaching the main hall, he sagged against the stair railing. He wiped sweat from his forehead with a trembling hand. He was shaky and faint, but it didn’t feel like a panic attack. He recognized this feeling as ordinary low blood sugar. He tried to remember when he had last eaten. He had had a few mouthfuls of miso soup at breakfast yesterday, prior to that had been the soup that Haruhi had served him on Friday afternoon. His body had finally had enough of his neglect and was fighting back.  
Turning away from the stairs, he made his way to the kitchen. Breakfast was long finished and most of the kitchen staff were elsewhere doing the required administrative work of ordering, counting, and planning that kept the kitchen running. When Kyoya stepped inside there was only one kitchen porter scrubbing the stainless steel grill. The young porter looked up as Kyoya walked in, smiled, and gave a low bow.  
“Good morning, Master Kyoya. Are you alright? Can I help you with something?”  
“Good morning. Is there any orange juice that I could have?” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying not to snap at this girl who just wanted to help. The low blood sugar was making him irritable and emotional.  
“Yes, certainly. Here, sit down while I get you some.” The porter pulled out a stool for Kyoya to sit at the center counter and helped him climb up with a gentle hand. In moments a large glass of juice was set in front of him. “Would you like anything else? Some tea and toast perhaps?”  
Kyoya looked that the porter as she stood there smiling at him. Her kitchen uniform was stained with grease and black smudges from the grill. The soiled uniform reminded him of his own grubby clothes. He was starting to notice the stench coming from his t-shirt. He could fix that next, but first: juice. He picked up his glass and drained half of it. “Tea and toast?” he asked.  
The porter grinned and ducked her head. “Right. My grandmother worked most of her life in English homes. She swears that tea and toast is the cure for almost any problem. It will only take me a moment to whip some up, if you’d like.”  
The orange juice was starting to work its magic, and Kyoya was already beginning to feel better. If only all problems could be solved so quickly. “Sure. I’ll have some English tea and toast.”  
“Great!” The porter sprang to put on the kettle. “I can’t tell you, Master Kyoya, what a relief it is to see that you’re okay. The house was in quite an uproar yesterday.” She flitted around the kitchen pulling out dishes and popping bread into the toaster. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a frenzy in this house. Not even when your parents throw a party.” With an easy grace, she poured out hot water into a teacup then tossed the toast onto a plate with a flick of her wrist. “Every staff member that could be spared was combing the house and grounds looking for you. They even dragged the koi pond. Oh, and your poor mother, I’ve never seen her in such a state. She’s normally so poised, but yesterday she was convinced you had been kidnapped. Did you want jam or anything? Milk for the tea?” He shook his head as she scraped butter across the toast slices then cut them in half before setting the plate and teacup in front of him. He took a bite of buttered toast. Maybe it was due the low blood sugar, but it tasted unbelievably good. He wolfed it down. “She calmed down a little when Master Yuuichi got here and spoke to her, but really, until we got word that they found you, she was so anxious and scared.”  
“Yuuichi was here?” Kyoya was surprised to hear that his oldest brother had been involved.   
“Oh yes,” answered the porter, wiping up crumbs from the counter. “And his wife, and Miss Fuyumi and her husband, and Master Akito, of course. Everybody was out looking for you. Did you want more?” She pointed to the already empty plate.  
Kyoya shook his head. Hunger had been overpowering everything else, but now guilt was starting to seep back in. “I’m sorry to have cause everyone so much trouble. I never thought my family would be so worried about me.”  
The porter paused her cleaning and gave him a quizzical look. “Well of course they were worried about you. What a thing to say! Teenagers always seem to underestimate how loved they are. Your family, the house staff, everyone here genuinely cares about your well-being. Don’t ever forget that.”  
Kyoya nodded, climbed down from his stool and bowed to her. “Thank you for the tea and toast, and for your concern for my welfare yesterday. I do appreciate it.”   
She smiled and returned his bow. “My pleasure, Master Kyoya. I am very happy that you are home safe with us once again.”  
Kyoya left the kitchen heading down the hallway towards the main staircase. Turning the corner, he bumped into Akito. Before Kyoya could say anything Akito had him wrapped in a hug holding him tight to his chest.   
Kyoya went ridged with surprise. He couldn’t remember ever being hugged by his brother before. “Akito, what are—”  
“Shhhhhh. This is happening.” They stood in the hallway unmoving and silent. Kyoya might have been uncomfortable if he hadn’t had this exact experience with Tamaki on more than one occasion. Taking a deep breath, Akito let him go. “I’m glad you’re back. You smell terrible.”  
“I know.”   
“You ever need to talk to somebody, you know that I’m here, right?” Kyoya looked into his brother’s eager eyes and knew without a shadow of doubt that if he ever needed to speak to someone, it would not be Akito. Still, he appreciated the offer.   
“Thanks.”  
Akito smiled and gave him a playful shove. “Now go shower. You’re gross.”  
Climbing the stairs to the second floor, Kyoya opened the door to his room and the giant mess that greeted him. His memory of the tantrum was vague and dream like. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he was shocked by the disarray that surrounded him. Papers and books where scattered everywhere. Every scrap of clothing he owned was strewn around the room. Even his dresser drawers were taken out and lying upturned on the floor. He couldn’t take a single step without treading on something. He picked up a book and smoothed out its crumpled pages. His father obviously hadn’t seen this mess in person or he was sure that the yelling would have gone on much longer than it did.  
Picking his way across the floor, he took up his dresser drawers and slid them back into their proper places. Next, he picked up a shirt flung over the arm of his couch. He shook it out and held it up in front of himself. He had never folded a piece laundry in his life and wasn’t sure where to start. He sighed and dropped the shirt back on the couch. It was going to take him forever to get everything back in order. It was overwhelming.  
A faint noise brought him out of his self-pitying thoughts. It was the muffled ring of his phone. He began scouring around, tossing clothes and brushing aside papers, trying to find the source of the ringing. At last, he found it tucked under the corner of the couch.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey! I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.” It was Tamaki. Kyoya sat down on the floor, resting his back against the corner of the couch. “What did your family say about you being gone? Was your father angry?”  
“Extremely. I’ve never seen him so upset.”  
“And what did he say when you told him about your anxiety and panic attacks?”  
“I haven’t told him yet.”  
“Kyoya…” He heard the disappointment in Tamaki’s voice and a needle of shame stabbed his heart.  
“I didn’t get the chance, we were interrupted. I will though.”  
“Promise?”  
“I promise.”  
“What are you doing now?”  
“I left my room at bit of a mess.” Master of understatement, he thought. “I’ve been charged with cleaning it up as part of my punishment.”  
“Did you want some help? I could come over.”  
Kyoya was tempted to accept his best friend’s offer but couldn’t risk inviting the wrath of his father by hanging out with his friend when he was supposed be making amends with his family. “That would be nice, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. Things around here are rather tense right now.”  
“Oh, okay. Call me later, okay?”  
“Sure.”  
“Promise? Promise you’ll call me. Pinky swear.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I promise. Idiot.”  
Kyoya hung up the phone and looked around the disaster zone again. Suddenly he caught a whiff of some stench. Crinkling his nose, he realized that the offensive odor was emanating from himself. Clicking his tongue in disgust, he stripped off the sweat infused t-shirt and tossed in onto the floor with the rest of the mess. Let’s take care of the easy problem first, he thought as he padded up the stairs to the bathroom. 

Kyoya stood outside his mother’s bedroom. He dreaded having to go in, but there was no way he could avoid it. After showering he had felt refreshed and the rest of the morning had been productive. With the help of some videos he found on the internet, he had gotten all of his clothes folded and put away. His schoolwork was sorted out and all the books were back on their shelves. It had taken awhile, but room was more or less back to the way it was.   
Next, he had written and delivered apologies to his security team and the housekeeping staff. The maids had been genial and conciliatory, forgiving him in an instant. However, his security team, Tachibana, Aijima, and Hotta, had been more standoffish. Although they accepted his apology, he knew it would be some time before they fully trusted him again. He supposed that was fair.  
The only thing left to do was apologize to his mother. Kyoya had known what to expect when he had been led into his father’s office that morning. He always knew where he stood with his father, and that was a comfort in its own way, but his mother was a different story. She was unpredictable when upset. Sometimes she could be forgiving and amiable, but other times she was indignant and icy. It was impossible to guess her reaction and that’s what made Kyoya nervous.   
Steeling himself with a deep breath he knocked on the door. He heard a response from the other side of the door, but couldn’t make out what was said. Opening the door a little, he popped his head inside. “Oka-san?”  
She was sitting up in bed rubbing her eyes, obviously having just woken up. She combed her fingers through her long, black hair, then looked up at him with groggy eyes. “Yuuichi?” In her drug-induced sleepiness she mistook him for his oldest brother “Have you found Kyoya yet? Is he all right?”  
“Oka-san, it’s me, Kyoya. I got back this morning.”  
“Kyoya-bo?”  
Kyoya blinked at being call “bo.” He hadn’t been called that in years. It was clear that the sedatives were still making her feel foggy. She reached her arms out him. Kyoya moved over to the bed and sat on the edge. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her chest, and rocked like she used to when he was small. He had come too soon. It was clear that she was still in the throes of the bottle of sedatives that stood on her nightstand, and it was unlikely she would remember any of this when she truly woke up.   
He knew he should go and come back later. It was silly for him, almost a grown man, to be coddled by his mother, even if she was just acting out a dream. Yet, he didn’t want to pull himself away. He couldn’t. The emotional relief he felt was like a physical weight floating away. He could almost feel his mother’s love flowing into him. He was four years old again, coming to his mother with a skinned knee. Her hug could make anything feel better.  
She stroked his hair and cooed in a drowsy voice. “My baby boy. We couldn’t find you.”  
Kyoya buried his face against her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t say anything else.  
“I know.” She kissed his cheek. He couldn’t remember the last time he had received this kind of familial tenderness, if indeed he ever had. A small voice in the back of mind told him that this felt strange and was not something he was normally comfortable with. But for some reason he found himself soaking it up like balm on a wound.  
“My poor Kyoya. Always putting on a brave face for everyone else. Always needing to be perfect.”  
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed his back and nuzzled his hair. Her grip on him began to slacken and Kyoya could tell that the sedative was pulling her back down into sleep. He leaned back from her and held her hands in his. “I love you, Oka-san.”  
She cocked her head and furrowed her brow. “Well, of course you do, Kyoya. Why would you even say something like that?” He might as well have told her he was breathing. With a chuckle, he squeezed her hands then let them go. She laid back down, already slipping into sleep. He stood up and turned to go.  
“Yuuichi?” He turned back confused. She was mistaking him for his brother again. “Yuuichi, make sure you tell me when Kyoya gets home. I’m so worried about him. He’s in pain and he won’t ask for help. He’s stubborn and wants to do everything himself. I don’t know what to do, Yuuichi. Please, I want to see him. Make sure he comes.”  
“Okay, I will.” Kyoya wasn’t sure what else to say. So many things had just been revealed in his mother’s tired ramblings. She knew. She knew all along. She could see through him clearer than a window. It had been the same with Tamaki and the other hosts. Here, he had thought that he was being so clever, showing people what they had wanted to see and hiding his true self, but it wasn’t true. The people who cared about him weren’t fooled for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something to his mother, but she was already asleep. He turned to the door and slipped out of the room.


End file.
